'r^ 




Pass "7 IPs-/ Q -2 
Book H(>T S 



By bequest of 



!W^ 



William Lukens Shoemaker 



rniNKS-I-TO-MTSBLF 

A 

SEEIO-LUDICKO, TKAGICO-COMICO 

TALE; 

WRITTEN BY 

TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. 



PHILADELPHIA : 
I MOSS & CO, 430 MARKET STREET. 

! . 1864. 



. Hi Tr 



am 

W» It. Shoemaker 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSEI^F, 



I WAS born of very honest, worthy, and re- 
spectable parents : at least I think so. They 
were certainly fully as much so as their neigh- 
bours : their circumstances were affluent ; their 
rank in life conspicuous ; their punctuality as 
to the discJiarge of all just debts, and regular 
payment of their trades-people, unexception- 
able. They generally appeared to be regard- 
ed by all around them in a very respectable 
light, being in the habit of receiving and return- 
ing, according to the customs of the world, all 
the usual compliments and civilities of visits, 
entertainments, &c. &c. Divers personages, 
of all ranks and denominations, used occasion- 
ally to resort to the house : some in carriages, 
some on horseback, some on foot ; some in s 
formal, stiff, ceremonious manner ; some upon 
a footing of intimacy and equality ; some upon 
special invitation ; some quite unexpected. 

Not having very good health in my early 
days, I lived much at home, and generally kept 
my good mother company ; so that I was pre- 
sent at most of the meetings and greetings of 
which I have spoken ; privy to all the prelimi- 
nary arrangements of chosen and' select par- 
ties ; and a witness commonly to the reception 
given to the several invitations that came from 
all quarters of the neighbourhood ; as liOrd and 



4 IHINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

Lu.Jy this ; Sir Timothy and Lady that ; Mr. 
and Mrs. T' other-thing, &c. &c. &c. all in tlioir 
turns, and out of their turns, welcome or unwel- 
come, friends or foes, were, in the course of the 
year, admitted or invited to the Hall. For we 
lived, you must know, in a Hal,l I that is. our 
house was called so : — not when I was born, 
nor till long afterwards ; nor ever very seri- 
ously ; rather, indeed, as a nickname than any 
thing- else. The case was this : — my sister 
happened to have a correspondent at a school 
near London, who, finding it essentially neces- 
sary to the support of her dignity among her 
school-fellows, always directed her letters so : 
for the parents of one, she found, lived at some- 
thing House ; and of another at what's-its- 
name Place ; and of another at thingumme 
Lodge ; of another at the Grange ; of another 
at the Castle ; of another at the Park : some 
lived on Mount Pleasants : some on Rose 
Hills ; some on Primrose Banks ; some at 
Bellevues ; some in Paragon's ; some in 
Circuses ; some in Crescents : in short, all 
boasted of a title and distinction, which our 
poor old mansion seemed to want : whether it 
were the dwelling of a Duke, or a Cheese- 
monger, it was all one : so that, in her own de- 
fence, she thought it fit to aggrandize her cor- 
respondent, in the eyes of her school-fellows, by 
conferring a title of some sort or other en our 
old mansion ; and, as Hall appeared to be as 
much unoccupied as any, she determined to 
direct to us., not at simple " Grumhlethorpe,^^ as 
formerly, but at Grumblethorpe Hall, 
which certainly sounded much grander. 

And, for the House's sake, I must aver, that 



THlNk!s-l-TO-MVSELF. 5 

it deserved a title far more than half me 
Lodges, and Places, and Parks, and Mounts, 
and Hills, and Banks, in the kingdom : for it 
was a regular, good, old-fashioned mansion ; 
situated in a very reverend and venerable park ; 
with a stately avenue of lofty elms, reaching 
near a quarter of a mile ; a handsome terrace 
in front, and a noble prospect from the draw- 
hig-room window : so that I have often thought 
it no less than a degradation of our venerable 
residence to be tricked out in this manner: but 
our friend could not, it seems, well help it ! to 
live at only " Grumblethorpe,^^ sounded so base 
in the refined ears of her associates, that she 
was in no small danger of bein^ contemned 
and despised for having such a correspondent; 
especially by Miss Blaze, the daughter of a 
retired tallow-chandler, Vv'hose father lived at 
Candlewick Castle ; and who was continually 
throwing out hints, that not to live at a Castle, 
or a Park, or a Place, or a House, or a Lodge,, 
manifestly and unequivocally bespoke so lowly 
an origin, and so Plebeian a parentage, that, 
for her part, she wondered how any person, so 
meanly connected, could possibly have found 
her way to so genteel and select a seminary ; 
in short, our friend found, that the only way to 
allay the degrading suspicions which had been 
excited, was to new-name our old mansion, 
and Grumblethorpe Hall became its established 
designation. 

Well, — to this mansion, this Hall, as I said 
before, divers persons and personages resorted. 
The neighbourhood was tolerably large, and 
the neighbours themselves ^vhat is comuionly 
called, sociablp: ; — so tiia 'vijr n^th ■stated, 
1* 



G TH{NK«-I-TO-MYSELF. 

and settled, and pop visits, we were seldom 
alone. 

I know not under what particular planet 1 
was born ;--I never ab:ked any cunning man to 
cast my nativity, arid, not being' born undei 
Mercurji, I was nevcrr cunninc^ enough to iind il. 
outof myself ; — but if there be any one of them, 
that has any peculiar iiiiluences in the way of 
consideration, reflection, or soliloquy, no doubt I 
was born under that ; for, being more given 
to taciturnity than loipiacity in my boyhood and 
early youth, and being sickly besides, the part 
I generally bore, in most of the companies 1 
speak of, was, to sit (|uite quiet, and make ob- 
servations and remarks to myself upon the 
conversation and conduct of others : but by de- 
grees I got into a habit, not only of thinking, 
but of talking to myself; and if any thing was 
done or uttered, at any time, that suggested 
certain i^n-utterable remarks, I fell into that 
particular state of soliloquy and mental reflec- 
tion, which I cannot possibly define or describe, 
otherwise than by the vulgar and trite, but sig- 
nificant phrase, " thinks-i-to-myself." 

it is past all conception how continually I 
was driven to have recourse to these mental 
remarks ; — scarcely a word was uttered that 
did not suggest something odd and whimsical 
to my watchful mind ; — often did it make me 
quite tremble for fear I should, by any accident 
or inadvertency, utter aloud what was passing 
only in my thoughts ; I suppose, had it happen- 
ed, it would at any time, and on a sudden, 
have made such a group as nothing but the 
pencil of an Hogarth could have adequately 
described ; for, in our neighbourlioo i, as in vwst 



tiiinks-i-to-:myself. 7 

others, (though a very sociable one,) the truth is, 
— there was such likings and dislikings, such 
jealousies and suspicions, such envyings and 
emulations, such a contrariety of feelings and 
sentiments, as would have set every thing in 
an uproar in a moment, had not the utmost and 
most unwearied attention been paid, by all 
parties, to the preventing any discovery of the 
truth. 

My poor mother had not a spark of ill-nature 
m her disposition, no pride, no uncharitable- 
ness ; but was certainly as well-bred, and as 
ready to make allowances for others, as most 
people ; but she could distinguish, as well as 
any, between agreeables and disagreeables, and 
be as much affected by them ; and thought, 1 
believe, that, take it altogether, there was 
rather a predominance of the latter, in the 
affairs, and occupations, and common pursuits 
of the v/orld : — she did not open her mind to 
me so fully upon the subject, as to enable me 
to state what was the exact nature of her 
feelings ; but I could collect a good deal from 
her conduct and manner occasionally. 

The first tendency to indulge myself in the 
lucubrations and reflections J describe, arose 
from the strange circumstances that seemed 
to me to attend her intercourse with her 
neighbours ; that is, the giving, and receiving 
of visits ! 

One day, when I was sitting quite snug 
with her, and she was occupied in writing to 
,my sister, who was absent from home, I spied 
at the end of the avenue a group of pedes- 
trians slowly making up to Grumblethorpe 
Hall, apparently dressed in their best bibs 



8 THlNKS-1-TO -MYSELF. 

and tuckers for a morning visit : Thinks-I-to 
myself, here's some agreeable company com 
ing to my dear mamma! how kind it is of hei 
neighbours to call in upon her thus, and not 
leave her to mope away her time by herself, 
as though she were buried aliye 1 — Not being 
willing, however, to run any risk of disappoint- 
inp; her, I waited patiently to see whether 
they were really commg to the Hall, for part 
of the avenue was the high-v/ay to the village ; 
I kept watching them, therefore, with no small 
anxiety, /or/car they should hirn away abruptly, 
and deceive my expectations ; but, when I saw 
them happily advanced beyond the turning to 
the village, and was, therefore, (pertain that 
they were really coming to see my dear mother, 
I hastily turned round to her, exclaiming, 
"Here's ever so many people coming, mam- 
ma I" thinking to delight her very heart : — 
"People coming," says she ; "I hope not!'' 
" Yes, indeed, there are," says I ;- " one, two, 
three, four ladies, a little boy, and two pug 
dogs, I declare I" " Bless my soul I" says my 
mother — " how provoking ! it is certainly Mrs. 
Fidget and her daughters, and that troublesome 
child, and now I can't finish ray letter to your 
sister before the post goes ! — I wish to good- 
ness they would learn to stay at home, and let 
one have one's time to one's self!" Thinks- 
I-to-myself, my poor mother seems not much to 
like their coming ; I am afraid the Mrs. and 
Miss Fidgets will meet with rather an unkindly 
reception ! However, T plainly saw that there 
was no stopping them ; they got nearer and 
nearer ; — the walking was not over clean, and 
my mother was the neatest woman in the world. 



thinks-i-to-mysi:lf. 9 

Think s-I-to-my self ^ the pug dogs will dirty 
the room. At last they arrived ; — the servant 
ushered them in ; — sure enouoh, it was Mrs. 
and Miss P'idgets, and the troublesome child, 
and all ! Mrs. Fidget ran up to my mother as 
though she would have kissed her, so glad did 
she seem to see her. My mother (bless her 
honest soul !) rose from her seat, and greeted 
them most civilly. " Tliis is verij kind, indeed, 
Mrs. Fidget," says she, " and I esteem it a 
great favour I — I had no idea you could have 
walked so far ; I am delighted to see you !" — 

Thinks- I-to-myself, — she wishes you all at 
Old Nick ! : !— 

Mrs. Fidget assured her she might take it 
as a particular favour, for she had not done 
such a thing, she believed, for the last six 
months ; and she should never have attempted 
it now to visit any body else ! 

Thinks- I-to-myself, — then, Mrs. Fidget, you 
have lost your labour ! — " And now," says she, 
" how I am to get home again I am sure I can- 
not tell, for I really am thoroughly knocked 
up :" — Thinks- I-to-myself, — my dear mother 
wo'n't like to hear that ! — but 1 was mistaken • 
for, turning to Mrs. Fidget, she said, with the 
greatest marks of complacency, " That's good 
hearing for us ; then we shall have the pleasure 
of your company to dinner ; Mr. Dermont will 
be delighted, when he comes home, to fnd yon 
all here.^^ " O, you are very good," says Mrs. 
Fidget, "but I mws^ return whether I can walk 
or not, only I fear I must trouble you with a 
longer visit than may be agreeable." " The 
longer the better,''^ says my dear mother. 
Thinks- l-to-my self — that's a ' ' y v ^,, 



10 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

While my mother and Mrs. Fidget were 
engaged in this friendly and compLimentarij 
conversation, the Miss Fidgets were lifting up 
the little boy to a cage in which my mother's 
favourite Canary bird hung, and the boy was 
sfeJulously poking his fingers through the wires 
ot the cage, to the great alarm and annoyance 
of the poor little animal. Thinks-I-to-myself 
my mother will wish you behind the fire pre- 
sently, young gentleman ! but no such thing ! 
— for, just at that moment, she turned round, 
and, seeing how he was occupied, asked if the 
cage should be taken down to amuse him. 
" He is a sweet hoy, Mrs. Fidget," says she ; 
" how old is he ?" " Just turned of four," says 
Mrs. Fidget. " Only four,'''' says my mother ; 
•' he is a remarkably fine strong hoy for that 
age '" " He is, indeed, a fine child," says Mrs. 
Fidget ; "but don't, my dear, do that," says she, 
" you frighten the poor bird." As the Miss 
Fidgets were about to put him down, my mother 
ventured to assure them, that he would do no 
harm : " Pretty little fellow,''' says she, " pray let 
him amuse himself." \ , 

All this while the two pug dogs were recon- 
noitring the drawing-room and furniture, jump- 
ing upon the sofa continually with their dirty 
feet, and repeatedly trying to discern (by the 
application of their pug noses to our feet and 
knees) who my mother and myself could be, 
barking, besides, in co}icert, at every movement 
and every strange noise they heard in the pas- 
sage and hall : Mrs. Fidget sometimes pretend- 
ing to chide them; and my mother as carefully 
pretending to excuse them with her whole heart : 
often did I catch her casting, as 1 thought, a 



THINKS-1-TO-MrSELF. 11 

wishful eye on the letter to my sister, which 
lay unfinished on the table : nay, once even when 
her attention had been particularly solicited to 
some extraordinary attitudes, into which the 
little dogs had been severally bidden to put 
themselves ybr her express amusement. 

But these canine exhibitions were nothing 
to the one with which we were afterwards 
threatened ; for my mother's high commenda- 
tions of the little gentleman of four years old 
induced his sisters to propose to their mother 
that he should "let Mrs. Dermont hear how 
well he could spouts 

Thinks-I-to-myself in some confusion, spout 
what ? where ? how T 

I soon found, however, that it only meant 
that he should entertain us with a specimen 
of his premature memory and oratorical talents, 
by speaking a speech. Strong solicitations were 
accordingly made to little Master, to begin the 
required display of his rhetorical abilities ; but, 
whether it were on account of shyness, or in- 
dolence, or sulkiness, or caprice, or, in short, 
merely that little Master was not in a spouting 
cue, he betrayed such an obstinate repugnance 
to the task imposed upon him, that it required 
all the entreaties of the rest of the party to in- 
duce him to make the smallest advances to- 
wards the exhibition proposed. Each of his 
sisters went down on her knees to coax him, 
while Mrs. Fidget huffed and coaxed, and 
coaxed and huffed, by furns, till she was almost 
tired of it. Now pro.nising such a load of 
sweetmeats, as soon as he got home, if he would 
but begin ; and in the same breath threatening 
the severest application of the rod if he did 



\2 T MINK S-I-TO-31Y SELF 

not instantly comply. At one time kissing him 
and hugging- him, with a " Now do, my dearest 
love, be a man, and speak your speech ;" at 
another almost shaking his head off his shoul- 
ders, with a " Stupid boy ! how can you be so 
naughty before company !" 

At last, however, upon my mother's tapping 
the pretty child under the chin, and taking 
him kindly by the hand, and expressing 
(Heaven bless her I) the most ardent wish and 
desire to be so indulged^ he did condescend to 
advance into the middle of the room, and was 
upon the point of beginning, when Mrs. Fidget 
most considerately interposed, to procure him 
to put his right foot a little forwarder, with 
the toe more out, and to direct him about the 
proper motion, that is, the up-lifting and down- 
dropping of his right arm during the perform- 
ance ; one of his sisters, in the mean time, 
seating herself near to him, for fear of any 
accidental slip or failure in the young gen- 
tleman's miraculous memory. 

His first attempt was upon Pop-e^s Universal 
Prayer, but, unfortunately, of the fourth line 
he managed constantly to make but one word, 
and that so odd a one, that the sound but ill 
atoned for the manifest ignorance of the sense. 

Father of all. in every age, 

In every clime ador'cl 
By saint, by savage, and by snge., 

Jovajovalord ' 

Jovajovalord ! This was the word, and the 
only word, that could be got out of his mouth , 
and, TImiks- i-to-mysclf, it would be well if no 
greater blunders had over been coinmitted 



THINKS-r-TO-MYSELF. 13 

with regard to that insidious line ; however, 
in consequence of this invincible misnomer 
the Universal Prayer was laid by, and other 
pieces successively proposed, till it was at 
length unanimously determined, that what he 
shone most in was King Lear's Address to the 
Tempest, and this was accordingly fixed upon 
as his chef-d'auvre in the art of oratory. 

Some preliminaries, however, in this in- 
stance appeared to be necessary. It was not 
reasonable to suppose young Master could ad- 
dress a storm without some sort of symptoms, 
at least, of a real storm. It was agreed upon, 
therefore, that he should not commence his 
speech till he heard a rumbling noise proceed 
from the company present, and we were all 
desired to bear our part in this fictitious thun- 
der ; how we all thundered I cannot pretend to 
say ; but so it was, that in due time, by the aid 
of such noises as we could severally and joint- 
ly contribute, the. storm began most nobly, 
when the young orator stepping forward, his 
eyes and right hand raised, and his right foot 
protruded secundum artem, he thus began • 

" Blow, winds, and cack your cheeks !" 

" Crack your cheeks, my love," says his 
sister, in great haste and agitation : " what 
can you mean by cack your cheeks ? what's 
that, pray ?" 

" Ay, what is that," says Mrs. Fidget ; — 
" but I believe, ma'am," adds she, turning to 
my mother, "I must make his excuses for 
him ; you must know he cannot be brought 
yet to pronounce an R, do all we can, so that 
he always leaves it quite out, as in the case 
2 



14 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

of cack for crack, ox he pronounces it exactly 
like a W. 

Thinks- I-to-mijself many do the like. 

" We choose speecnes for him, therefore," 
continues Mrs. Fidget, " in which there are 
many R's, on purpose to conquer the difficulty, 
if we can : begin again, my dear," says she, 
"' and pray remember not to leave out your R 
R's ;" so he began afresh : 

" Blow, winds^ and cwack your cheeks 1" 

" Cu-ack," says Mrs. Fidget, " why, that is 
almost as bad ; try again — " 

" Blow, winds, and cwack your cheeks ! wage, — " 

" Wage, my dear," says Mrs. Fidget, " do 
pray try to say rage." 

'< Wage, 
You catawacks and hurwy canoes, spout 
Till you have divench'd our steeples, dwown'd 
the cocks \" 

" Bless me," exclaims Mrs. Fidget, " you 
might as well not speak at all as speak so ! I 
defy any body to understand what you mean 
by d?i?own'd the cocks !" The little gentle- 
man, however, proceeded in spite of the R R's. 

" You sulphurous and thought-executing' fires, 
Vaunt — couzt-iers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, 
Singe rnv white head — and thou, all shaking thunder, 
Stioike flat the thick 7i;otundity o' the world j 
Cu'ac'k nature's mould, all gerrains spill at once, 
That make ungwateCul man. 
fTumble thy belly full, spii fire, spout train '" 

" O dear, dear, dear," says Mrs. Fidget, "that 
will never do : M>umble thy belly full, spit fire, 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. If. 

and spoijt wain ! who ever heard of such 
things ? Better, my love, have done vv^ith that, 
and try the Bard ;" but the Bard, beginning 

" Wain seize the wuthless king- !" 

put US too much in mind of " it'umble your 
belly full," to be proceeded with, and there- 
fore little Master v^as at last bidden to descend 
from such flights, and try his Fable ; but even 
his Fable, which happened to be the first of 
Gay, happening, most unfortunately, to begin 
with an R, his setting off' here was as bad as 
ever, viz. 

" I'Femote from cities liv'd a swaia — '' 

however, he got through about ten lines, 
making, a,s I observed, a dead pause at the end 
of every one, and not disposing very discreetly 
either of his accents or his stops : his delivery 
being, a«3 nearly as possible, just as follows ; 
his accents falling on the words printed in 
Italics ; and his pauses as noted by the perpen- 
dicular and horizontal bars : 

" His liead was j siicer'il j o'er with age — 
And long ex- | perieyice j nmde iiim sage — 
His hanrs in | clieerjul j labour flew — 
Nor Envy n^7- j Ambitio?/, knew — " 

At the beginning of every couplet I also 
found his right arm regularly went up, and, pre- 
cisely at the end and close of every rhyme, cr.r:ie 
plump down again. Most happily, at the eleventh 
line, the young gentleman's miraculous memory 
was nonplused, and neitlier mamma, nor any 
of nis sisters, nor either of the pug dogs, could 



!6 THIiNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

at all help him out. Thinks-I-to-myself, — 1 
could if I would — but I did not. Would you ? 
— N. B. There were seventy more lines to 
come, and an R in almost every one of them, 
and time, as usual, flying briskly all the while. 

This stop and impediment, however, was 
fatal to the young- orator's progress, and 
therefore, at last, Mrs. Fidget being rested, 
they all prepared to go. Thinks-I-io-mysdf^ 
now my poor mother will be happy again 1 
but she, good soul, seemed to have got quite 
fond of them in consequence of the extraordi- 
nary length of their stay : she could not now 
so easily part with them : she was sure Mrs. 
Fidget could not be thoroughly rested : the 
clock had but just struck two : if they would 
but stay a little longer, my father would be 
come home from his ride, and he would be 
greatly mortified to miss seeing them ; but 
nothing would do : — go they must : — TJiinks- 
I-to-myself, now a fig for your friendship, Mrs. 
Fidget ; what, not stay vmen my mother so 
earnestly presses it ! not stay, when she de- 
clares your going will mortify my worthy 
father ! No — nothing would stop them ;, — away 
they went ; not, however, indeed, without sun- 
dry promises on their part soon to call again^ 
and divers most earnest entreaties of my mother's, 
on no account to forget it. • 

They were scarce gone out of the front- 
door before my father entered: — "Are they 
really all gone at last ?" says he, " I thought 
they would have staid till dooms-day: — who 
in the world were they all ?" — " O dear," says 
my mother, " Why, Mrs. Fidget and her tribe ; 
girls and boy, and two pug dogs."- -" Thank 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 17 

my stars I escaped them," says my father : 
THiNKS-i-TO-MYSELF, great symptoms oi morti- 
fication my dear father shows at having had 
the misfortune to miss seeing them ! " I declare,'' 
says my mother, " it is abominable to break in 
upon one in this manner : it was impossible to 
entertain such a group ; so, while Mrs. Fid- 
get and I v/ere in conversation, her young peo- 
ple and the dogs had nothing to do but to tease 
the bird, and dirty the furniture ; that little 
monkey of a boy is alwa^^s in mischief; I could 
freely have boxed his ears ; I thought he would 
have killed my poor bird ; I was in the midst of 
a letter to Caroline, and now it's too late for the 
post ; how Mrs. Fidget can spend all her time 
in visiting and walking about in the manner she 
does, I cannot conceive ; I am to take it as a 
great and singular favour, she tells me, as she 
always does every time she comes, thinking, 1 
suppose, that I don't know she is never at 
home ; I think she'll lose that boy ; I never saw 

such apuny, sickly child in my life :" Thinks- 

I-to -myself, — O poor Mrs. Fidget; fine stout 
boy of its age ! 

My father, with a great deal of good breed- 
ing in general, was a pUin, blunt man in the 
mode of expressing his sentiments ; so that 
my mother had scarcely finished what she 
had to say, but my father burst out — " Tiresome 
woman," says he, " she ought to b^e confined ; 
— she'^* alv/ays wandering about with a tribe 
of children and dogs at her heels ; — there's 
poor Mrs. Creepraouse is quite ill from her 
visits ; vou know what a nervous creature she 
is." 

My father would have gone on ever so long, 
2*- 



18 TillNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

probably, in this strain, had not the servant 
entered with a note ; which my mother imme- 
iiiately opened, and read aloud ; the contents 
being to the following' effect — 

" Mr. and Mrs. Meekin present their com- 
pliments to Mr. and Mrs. Dermont, and shall 
be extremely happy to have the honour of their 
company to dinaer on Saturday next at five 
o'clock." 

Thinks- I-io-myself, how civil, polite, and 

oblig-ing ! The servant was ordered to 

withdraw, and tell the messenger to wait. 

As soon as he was gone, " Good God, (says my 
father,) those people \Yil\ never let its alone; 
surely we dined there last ;" my mother thought 
not ; — my father thought the)^ were for ever 
dining there ; — my mother convinced him, by a 
reference to her pocket book, that Mr. and 
Mrs. Meekin were quite right as to the balance 
of debtor and creditor. " Well, only take care," 
says my father, " that we do not get into a habit 
of dining there above once or twice a year at 
the utmost; it is really too great a sacrifice." 
— " What, do you mean to go, then ?" says my 
mother. — '• Go," says my father, " why, I sup- 
pose we must.'''' — " I wish they were further," 
says my dear mother. — " I wish they were at 
Jericho," says my dear father. — " I had rather 
do any thing than go on Saturday," says my 
mother. — "I had rather be hanged than ever 
go," says my father, " it is such an intolerable 
bore." — " Well," says my mother, " but the ser- 
vant's waiting ;" — so she took the pen, and 
away she wrote two or three lines in a moment. 
— " There," says she to ray father, " will that 
do ?" Thinks-I-to-myself, short and sharp, proba- 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. i!) 

bly ! My father, happily for me, read it aloud : — 
" Mr. and Mrs. Dermont return their compli- 
ments to Mr. and Mrs. Meekin, and will wait 
upon them with the greatest pleasure on Satur- 
day to dinner." Thinks- I-to-my self, well done, 
my sweet tempered mamma ! how mild and how 
forgiving ! But my father surprised me most ; 
instead of throwing it into the fire, as I expect- 
ed, he declared it would not only do, but do 
vastly well; he, therefore, sealed it himself, 
rang- the bell, gave it to the servant, and de- 
sired that he would give their best compliments ; 
— " And mind," says he, " you ask the servant 
how they all do ; be sure you make him un- 
derstand." Thinks-I-to-myself what heavenly- 
mindedness ! what Christian charity ! 

I expected the servant every moment to re- 
turn with an account of our friend's health ; 
but no such thing : my father and mother 
seemed to have quite forgot they had made 
the inquiry. I ventured to remind them of 
the servant's neglect. " Ah I" says my father, 
" my boy, you donH know the world.^' Thinks- 
l-to-myself — what's that to the purpose ; but I 
never went further than necessary. It seemed 
unaccountable to m.e what could be the nature 
of my father's and mother's sentiments and 
feeling,^ to send with such earnestness to ask 
hov/ their friends did, and never want an an- 
swer : however, the servant did return soon 
after to bring some sandwiches, and my mother 
immediately asked him whether he had been 
careful to inquire how they all were, which the 
servant answered in the affirmative : Well, 
Thinks-I-to-myself and how are they all, then ? 
no, not a word further ; dead or alive, it seemed 



20 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

to be all one to my father, my mother, and the 
servant ; not an item about the health of master 
or mistress, son or daughter, though I knew 
there was a house full of them : Thinks-I-to- 
myself, as sure as can be, that fellow knows 
something of the world : but my contempla- 
tions were again broken in upon by the en- 
trance of the servant with another note, which 
my mother broke open, as she had done the 
other, and read as before. 

" Sir Henry and Lady Lydiard beg the fa- 
vour of Mr. and Mrs. Dermont's company to 
dinner at five o'clock on Saturday next." 
Thinks-I-to-myself, what's to be done now ?— 
" Let the man wait," says my mother ; " was 
ever any thing so unlucky, Mr. Dermont ? Had 
It come but a moment sooner we should have 
been totally disengaged." — " The deuce take 
the Meekins," says my father. — " What can we 
do ?" says my mother. — " Go, by all means," says 
my father, " and send an excuse to the others." 
— "Bat it will be so rude," says my mother. — 
" Oh, never mind that," says my father ; " write 
a note, and I'll send it." — " But what can I say ?" 
says my mother. — " O, say we were previously 
engaged, and had forgot," says my father : 
Thinks- I-to-my self, what a bounce ! " Well, but 
then we must accept this invitation," says my 
mother. — " By all means," says my father ; " we 
always meet a pleasant party at Sir Henry's." 
So a note was written, which I neither saw nor 
heard, but I dare say it expressed great plea- 
sure at being completely at liberty to wait upon 
them, for that seemed to be the reply they had 
agreed upon between themselves. 

The next thing- was, to write an excuse to 



THINK S-I-TO-MYSELF. 21 

the others : Thinks- I-to-my self, how will my 
dear mamma manage that ! Says my mother, 
" To be sure, if we can get off, it will be delight- 
ful." — " Get off !" says my father, " we 7nusf 
get off, — it is bore enough in common to go 
there, but to give up a pleasant party at Sir 
Henry Lydiard's, to dine humdrum with the 
Meekins, is too much." By this time my 
mother had made some progress in her note of 
apology. — Thinks- 1- to-my self, to be sure she is 
telling them the exact truth, for she takes no 
time to frame any fudge or falsehood : well, it 
was soon finished, and as soon read to my wor- 
thy father, while I had the happiness to hear, 
and to treasure up, the exact contents of it ; 
they were, I apprehend, precisely as follows : 

" Mr. and Mrs. Dermont present their com- 
pliments to Mr. and Mrs. Meekin, are extremely 
sorry and concerned to be under the necessity 
of informing them, that, when they answered 
their obliging and kind invitation for Saturday, 
they had, by accident, forgotten a previous en- 
gagement to dine at Sir Henry Lydiard's, which 
will entirely prevent them the great pleasure they 
had promised themselves of dining on that day 
at Meekin Place. They hope another time to 
be more fortunate, as it is with extreme regret 
that they feel compelled to send this excuse." 

Thinks-I-to-myself Lord have mercy upon 
me ; how well my dear mother seems to know 
the world ! I actually began to bo alarmed ; 1 
loved both my father and mother sincerely ; J 
had judged them to be above all deceit, and 
yet, what was I to think now ? I pondered and 
ruminated upon it a good deal, when the ser- 



"22 THINK S-I-TO-MYSELF. 

he, " there's some company coming down 
the avenue ; will you please to be at home ?" 
Thinks-I-to-myself, please to be at home I why 
where else can she please to be ? " Oh," says 
my fathej:, hastily, " not at home, not at home, 
unless it should be so and so, and so and 50,'* 
enumerating rapidly a select list of worthies. 
As there was a necessity for the carriage to 
pass the window of the room where we were 
sitting, and it was too near to admit of our go- 
ing elsewhere, my father and mother got both 
behind a great screen, while I was hastily hur- 
ried up into the nook of a book-case : Thinks- 
I-to-mystlf, I suppose this is heing not at home ! 
As the servant had inadvertently left the door 
open, I observed that it was judged necessary, 
for fear of discovery, to stifle all sorts of natural 
or other noises, even to the inhalation and ex- 
halation of the breath of life ; so that my father 
stood with his pockethandkerchief stuffed into 
his mouth, and my mother with her lips press- 
ed close and flat against the back of the screen, 
while I poked mine, as well as I could, behind 
the book-case, whence a little dust seemed to 
arise that made me fear greatly that a sneeze 
would be inevitable ; while we were thus 
grouped, expecting every moment that the 
carriage would drive off", in came the servant 
with two of the finest ladies in the neighbour- 
hood, who actually discovered my father and 
mother behind the screen, who were obliged, 
ac'Cordingly, to come out, which they contrived 
to do with the greatest apparent delight, so that, 
/, of course, apprehended the visitors must be 
some of the so and so^s that were doomed to be 
admitted : " I was sure you v/ere at home," 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 23 

said they ; and so they might well be, for another 
servant, whom they had met in the avenue, had 
told them so, as it turned out in the end. " We 
could not think who it was," said my mother ; 
" had we had the least idea of its being you, 
we should have been at home of course, but we 
had intended to deny ourselves if it had been 
any body else." 

I would have given any thing to have known 
enough of the world to have determined whe- 
ther I ought to come out of my hiding place 
or not ; for my father and mother, in their con- 
fusion, had quite forgotten me, and the compa- 
ny had managed to seat themselves so as to be 
wholly incapable of investigating the contents 
of the nook in which I happened to stand. 
Thinks-I-to-myself, they talk so loud, I may at 
least breathe more freely ; but at length what 1 
was most afraid of actually befel me ; some dust, 
or some s.moke, or some sunshine, or something 
or other, or the mere expectation and alarm of 
it, got up my nose, and so affected the olfactory 
and other nerves of that noble organ as to pro- 
duce an indispensable necessity to take some 
measures to stifle the storm of sneeze, with 
which I seemed to be threatened ; unfortunate- 
ly, I had not time to go to my pocket, so that I 
was obliged to let all depend upon the weak 
resistance to be produced by tke interposition 
of my five lingers ; which having, as every body 
knows, as many interstices as there are fi'nger^, 
had no other effect but that of ramifying and 
dividing the noise into as many parts as there 
were fingers, so that out it all came, Jive-fold 
louder than there was any natural necessity 
for ; the sounds, besides being severally of a 



24 THINK S-I-TO -MYSELF. 

description by no means fit for the refined ears 
of a courtly company ; the effect was such as 
might be expected; the two strangers were 
nearly thrown from their seats by the shock 
and alarm of so unexpected a salute, while my 
father and mother were little less surprised, and 
at the same time much more confused. I was 
of course obliged to come out, and an attempt 
was made to laugh the matter off; but one of 
the ladies was really so alarmed as to be near 
fainting, and, though she made every effort to 
seem to forgive me, yet I was sure by her looks 
that she wished me dead, or worse, if possible ; 
they took the earliest opportunity afterwards 
of ordering their carriage to the door, and, as 
they quitted the house, I secretly gave them 
my blessing ; it then first came to my know- 
ledge that, instead of being any of the so 
and so^s that had a fair claim to be admitted, 
my poor father and mother would as willingly 
have seen the witch of Endor, and that the 
whole visit had been the effect of accident and 
blunder. 

But what made it worse was, that, as they got 
into the carriage, some still more disagreeable 
people came to the door, at that very instant, 
whom it became, therefore^ an equal matter of 
impossibility to refuse, and who were accord- 
ingly forced upon us for a full hour : — Thinks- 
I-to-myself, nothing can exceed the patience 
of my dear father and mother, when I saw them 
bow and courtesy to these additional guests, 
expressing joy rather than sorrow at their un- 
timely visit, and giving them every other testi- 
mony of a liearty welcome. These were new 
v.oinvrs into the neighbourliood, and it was the 



THJjSKS I-TO-MYSELF. 25 

I eturn of their first visit. — My father and mother 
knew as much of them, and they of my fatlier 
and mother, as the emperor of China knows of 
the Cherokee Indians. They were not in that 
elevated rank of life that excites confidence 
even amongst strangers, nor did they appear 
to have much more knowledge of the world in 
general than myself; I did not think it worth 
my while to stay very long in the room after 
their arrival, having no great prospects either of 
edification or amusement from the conversation 
of the whole group taken together. Mrs. 
Fidget and her party, and the fine ladies whom 
[ was near sneezing into fits, had plenty to say 
for themselves ; but the gentleman and lady, 
that had succeeded to them, seemed to have 
not much larger a vocabulary at their com- 
mand than a poll-parrot. The utmost efforts 
of my poor father and mother to get them to 
make a few advances of themselves towards con- 
versation seemed entirely to fail ; — so that all 
that was uttered was by starts and jumps, with 
long intervals of dead silence ; — as the sun was 
shining full into the room, and had been so all 
the morning, my mother ventured to remark, 
that " it was a beautiful day," to which both as- 
sented ; — " but rather too warm," says my 
father. — " Rather too warm, certainly," said 
they both at once ; and a dead silence followed. 
" Are you fond of the country ?" says my father. 
" Very fond," said they both, and another dead 
silence ensued. — " Are you a sportsman ?" said 
my father. " No," says he ; and a dead silence. 
" Are you any thing of a-farmer?" " No ;" dead 
silence. — " Are you fond of fishing ?" " No ;" 
and another dead silence : — while exactly in the 
3 



26 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

same manner was my mother engaged in pump- 
ing the lady: — "Are you a great walker r" 
" Yes ;" and a dead silence. — " Do you draw at 
all ?" " No ;" and a dead silence. — " How many 
young folks have you .^" " Five ;" and a dead 
silence. Thinks-I-to-myself, sure they fancy 
they are being tried for their lives ! I could 
bear it no longer, but found means to depart ; 
and yet I learned afterwards that they had the 
conscience to pay quite as long a visit as if 
they had been the most agreeable people in 
the world. 

It was from such scenes as these, continual - 
ly repeated, that I acquired the habit I speak of 
— of soliloquy and suppressed remarks. Often 
have I wished to get the better of it since I 
have been grown up ; but it still haunts me, — 
for every ten words that I utter out aloud, 
twenty or forty perhaps are mumbled in silence 
to myself: the worst of it is that though nobody 
can have been more disposed than myself 
from my very childhood, to love my fellow- 
creatures ; my mental remarks, spite of my 
teeth, will be continually suggesting something 
bad or ridiculous concerning them : I have de- 
tected such deliberate falsehoods, such atro- 
cious inconsistencies, such barefaced hypoc- 
risy, such base dissimulation, that often my 
very hair has stood on end, when I felt a 
" Thinks-I-to-mysdf'' coming upon me. 

As I have ever been a dutiful and most af- 
fectionate son, the reader may easily suppose 
my concern was not small to gather this morti- 
fying experience of the ways of the world, most 
immediately and expressly, — indeed, for some 
time solely, — from the conduct of my beloved 



THINK S-1-TO-MYSELF. 27 

parents ; for it was from them that 1 first learn- 
ed that a wvis possible to be extremely happy to 
have the pleasure of seeing the most tiresome 
people in the world! that it was possible to be 
much mortified at being- prevented the happiness 
of dining with a whole heap of insufferable 
bores ; that it could be necessary to hope to be 
favoured or honoured with the company of per- 
sons, whom in our hearts we thoroughly wished 
at Jericho. These things induced me to say, 
at the beginning of my book, that I believe I 
was born of honest parents : — honest I really 
think they were, only that their honesty was 
mixed up with a large quantity of dishonesty ; 
that is, they were as honest as it is possible for 
people to be who can be happy to be made mise- 
rable ; pleased with disagreeables; mortified 
by what is delightful ; who can hope for what 
they most dread ; ask as a favour, what they 
would give the world not to receive ; and ac- 
cept with great pleasure what they v/ould give 
the world to decline. I was uneasy, as I have 
said, as long as these discoveries all tended to 
the reproach of my beloved parents. Surely, 
Thinks-I-to-myself I am born of a race of hy- 
pocrites and deceivers. There cannot be a 
molecule of honesty left in the whole current 
of the blood of the Dermonts I Many uneasy 
days and nights I passed in endeavouring to 
think better of people I loved so much ; but it 
was long before I had any fair opportunity of 
being at all undeceived ; and perhaps I never 
should, had it not been for a little bit of strata- 
gem, which, upon any less occasion, I should 
have- disdained. 



28 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

One day, when I was sitting with ray mother, 
as usual, but a considerable time after the 
scene I have been describing, the identical 
party I have before spoken of came again ; — 
videlicet, Mrs. and Miss Fidgets, the trouble- 
some child, and the two j)ugs. Again was Mrs. 
Fidget delighted to see my mother, and my 
mother her : again did the one intend it as a 
great and singular favour, and again did the 
other receive it as such ; again was the trouble- 
some child, instead of getting his ears boxed, 
as I thought he deserved, pronounced to be a 
sweet child, and a veryjine boy of his age, though 
in reality us puny and sickly as my mother real- 
ly thought him when he was with us last ; 
again were the dirty pugs admired and caress- 
ed ; again were they pressed to stay longer, 
thanked for their kindness, and urged to come 
igain. Thinks- I-to-myseif, what can all this 
mean ? Is my mother that downright hypocrite, 
that artful deceiver, deliberately to impose up- 
on all her friends in this manner ; and are they 
all such silly dupes as to be so easily taken in ? 
Thinks-I-to-myself, I know what I'll do ; so I 
jumped up from my seat, hastily quitted the 
room, and ran into a field near the house, which 
happened to be separated from the avenue by 
a high and thick hawthorn hedge, which con- 
tinued a considerable way, and where I knew 
I should be able to hear all the friendly re- 
marks of the company as they quitted Grum- 
blethorpe Hall. 

I had not been long there before out came 
the whole group ; and, as good luck would have 
it, they came quite near enough to me to admit 
oi mv receiving into my poor innocent ears 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 29 

every soft and gentle expression that fell from 
their amiable tongues. "Thank my stars," 
says the worthy Mrs. Fidget, '■HhatvisiVs over i 
we need not go there again for some time ; it is 
all so formal and so prim, one's half afraid to 
open one's mouth : poor little Tommy, how 
do you like that old lady ?" " Not at all," says 
the pretty child. " Nor I neither, my dear," 
says Mrs. Fidget. " Nor I neither," says Miss 
Fidget. " Nor I,'' says Miss Matilda. '' Nor 
I," says little Miss Nancy. " What a strange 
creature," adds Mrs. Fidget, "is that hopeful 
sen of hers ! he never speaks a word ; I believe 
he's an idiot ! and yet to see the foolish fond- 
ness and credulity of parents ; I verily believe 
they fancy him wise enough to be Prime 
Minister ; but he'll die, I think ; — he's as thin 
as a threadpaper, and looks for all the world, in 
that black jacket of his, like a half-starved 
chimney sweeper. Did you see how he mut- 
tered something to himself as he went out of 
the room ? It will be a great mercy if he is 
taken out of the world, for it is a shame for 
such dodpoles to be born to such an inheri- 
tance : here, Matilda, we must turn dov/n here ; 
I may as well go and see old Mrs. Creepmouse, 
now I am so near, and then we shall have killed 
two birds with one stone." 

Thinks- I-to-my self ^ so you will, Mrs. Fidget, 
or perhaps three : for she seemed to have taken 
pretty good aim at myself as well as at my 
mother and old Mrs. Creepmouse ; and I con- 
fess I felt so utterly astonished and confounded, 
that I did not quite know whether I stood on 
my head or my heels ; however, the first thing 
that struck me was, that my poor dear parents 
8* 



.^0 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

were quite exonerated : Thinks-I-to-myself^ it 
all comes of their knowing the world ! no, 
there's nothing in it beyond self-defence. Mrs. 
Fidget's singular favour and prodigious fiiend- 
ship is evidently no better than a deliberate at- 
tempt to kill my poor mother with the same 
stone she kills Mrs. Creepmouse, and to rejoice 
all the way home at having done it effectually. 
I returned to the house, heartily glad to have 
made so successful an experiment, though, in- 
stead of curing me of my malady, I plainly saw it 
would increase it abominably. I went back to 
my mother, and, as might naturally be expect- 
ed, found her as much delighted to be left alone 
again as the Fidgets were to get away. I was 
almost tempted to say, Do you know that you 
and Mrs. Creepmouse have both been, by this 
time, killed by one stone ? but I must have, 
by doing so, betrayed my plan of listening, 
which I had great reason to think would have 
excited her displeasure ; for she had always 
discouraged it as a matter of great imperti- 
nence, great disingenuousness, and great mean- 
ness, both in myself and my sister, adding the 
old proverb, that " listeners never hear any good 
of themselves ;" which I had pretty well found 
to be true, in the compliment paid, by the love- 
ly Mrs. Fidget, to my poor threadpaper form, 
chimney-sweeping jacket, and clod-pole. 

It would be impossible to recount but the 
hundred thousandth part of the strange scenes 
to which I was witness, and the strange re- 
marks they suggested, before I was grown up 
to be a man: — but most of them till then were 
of a nature I have alluded to. My enmity to 
Mrs. Fidget soon wore off, as I made greater 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 31 

progress in the knowledge of the world. I 
soon found that Mrs. Creepmouse could just as 
willingly have killed Mrs, Fidget, as Mrs. 
Fidget could have killed Mrs. Creepmouse, 
and that, in the true way of visiting, the more 
havoc and destruction one stone could make, 
the better to all parties. I soon found thai 
people were troublesome to each other by set- 
tled compact, treaty and agreement, not signed, 
sealed and delivered, indeed, in any form, but 
concluded to be so, and therefore neve,r to be 
violated. I soon found that none were duped, 
none really taken in, none really deceived ; — 
that " I am extremely happy to see you," meant 
no more, in reality, than, that " I am come be- 
ctiuse I could not help it ;" and that " Pray stay 
longer," implied little else than " I w^ish you 
were gone," or some such elegant valediction : 
— still I could not break myself of my solilo- 
quies : they were for ever recurring : — in the 
mean time, I tried to be as civil and decent 
as I could in my reflections : — Thinks-I-to-my- 
self, that's a lie ! never once passed the very 
thresh-old of my thoughts ; — but when any 
thing very contrary to the truth seemed to 
strike me, especially where ladies were con- 
cerned, the utmost asperity of thought indulged 
was no greater than Thinks-I-to-myself, that's 
a bounce ; — or a fib ; or a hum ; — and so on. 

I have never yet told the reader, though Mrs. 
Fidget, in the avenue, had nearly let the cat 
out of the bag, that I was born to a considera- 
ble inheritance and a title ; my father, through 
his mother, who was the daughter of a Scotcli 
Earl, being heir, after the death of a distant 
female relation, to a Scotch Barony. — You may 



32 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

be pretty sure that all this was not unknown to 
many of the visitors at Grumblethorpe Hall ; 
and that the poor clodpole was an object of 
interest to others besides my worthy parents : 
— in the very next parish lived a gentleman 
and lady, who had inherited an over-grown 
fortune from a most distinguished ancestor, 
namely, John Twist, Esq. the great tobacconist : 
seventy or eighty thousand pounds were no- 
thing : — they were thought to have got from 
him, in all, as much as three or four hundred 
thousand, with which they had purchased a 
magnificent seat in the neighbourhood ; and, 
unluckily for me, their lands joined my father's : 
— I wish every acre of it had been in JVova 
Zembla. These good folks happened, as is 
generally the case, I think, not to be overbur- 
thened with children; had they been day la- 
bourers, they would have had a hundred : — but 
all their progeny was one only daughter ; heir- 
ess, of course, in the eye of the world, to all 
the leavings of the rich tobacconist. 

My father, God bless him ! was not covetous^ 
but he knew that a title brought with it large 
and ungovernable expenses ; he had no more 
pride than he had covetousness, and, I believe, 
would as willingly have seen the expected 
Barony branch suddenly off from the main stem 
of his inheritance into ever so distant a colla- 
teral ramification, as com.e down, either perpen- 
dicularly or zigzag, exactly upon his head : bul; 
come it would ; and who could help it ? while the 
lands originally attached to it were expected, 
some of them, to stick to the earldom, whicli 
went into another line, and some to an elder ba- 
/•ony, and some to this, and that, and t'other, till 



THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 3:} 

nothing- but an empty coronet seemed ieffc to my 
poor father : — his own estate was excellent fur 
a private gentleman, but he did not like this 
poor barony, that was coming down to make 
liim more conspicuous. 

Miss Grizilda Twist was just three year;-- 
younger than myself; all the pains that were 
possible had been taken to make her extreme- 
ly disagreeabiO ; she had been indulged front 
infancy in every whim and caprice that could 
enter her weak mind, and overloaded with ac- 
complishments that filled her head with conceit ; 
she was abominably proud, as might be expect- 
ed, and by no means of an amiable temper : — 
I would describe her person, but it may seem 
invidious ; for, perhaps, many more amiable per- 
sons may, jointly or severally, have similar fea- 
tures ; and, as I mean that every body in the 
world shall read this book, I wish to give no 
p-srsonal offence to any. I leave you all there- 
fore, gentle readers, to guess whether her hair 
was black, brown, or bright red ; — w^hether her 
eyes were hazel, blue, or emerald green ; — 
whether her nose was Roman, Grecian, aqui- 
line, or turned up in front, with large open nos- 
trils ; — whether her teeth were ivory-white and 
even, or black and jagged : T will fairly say, I 
did not myself admire her person, but nothing 
more : Ladies are ladies. 

One day, as my father and myself were walk- 
ing round the grounds, he began about the 
peerage that was likely to come to us : says 
he, " Bob, you knov/ you are to be a lord." " I 
have heard so, sir," says I. " So much the 
worse, my boy," says he. " Certainly, sir," says 
I, (for I never contradicted him:) but. Thinks- 



i4 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF 

l-to-myself, all the while — Why so ? " You know, 
1 suppose," says he, " that no estate comes with 
it ?"— " Not till you told me, sir," says L " A 
title wirthout an estate is a sad incumbrance," 
says he. I assented, though I cared no more 
about it than the man in the moon. " This 
property is great enough in its way," added 
my father, " but not sufficient for a Pee?-.^^ — I 
forget what reply I made to this ; for, just at 
that moment, he turned his right leg over the 
upper bar of the stile, and there he sat. 
Thinks- I-to-my self, — " We'll ride a cock-horse 
to Banbury Cross ;" — what in the world makes 
him sit so ? Says my father, slapping his left 
thigh, " This leg. Bob, is in Grumblethorpe do- 
mains :" — Thinks-I-to-myself, he's going mad f 
then, slapping his right thigh, — " In what do- 
main is this leg. Bob ?" — Thinks-I-to-myself, he 
foams at the mouth ! However, he went on : — 
" This stile, Bob, you must know, exactly di- 
vides our property from Mr. Twist's." I was 
delighted to hear him talk like a rational crea- 
ture again: he looked at me, however, as if 
stiil waiting for a reply, though I had said, 
" Does it, sir ?" or " Yes," or some such thing, 
in answer already : he repeated the remark. 
Thinks-I-to-myself — what can my father mean? 
" Many estates. Bob," continues he, "pass down 
straight forward tiirough a long, long line of 
lineal descendants ; some go off at right angles 
one knows not where, for want of children to 
succeed ; — some gently and smoothly glide into 
other families as by adoption, sale, or marriage ;" 
he again made a solemn pause. Thinks-I-to- 
mysclf what next ? — " What a pity," says he, 
" Bob, that poor Mr. Twist should have no so-n." 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 3o 

— I said not a word : — " A daughter" continues 
he, " must carry it all into some other family." 
I said nothing : " I suppose," says he, there's 
many a young man looking out for Miss Twist:" 
— Thinks- I-to-my self, let 'em look ! Just at this 
moment we w^ere interrupted. My father was 
called home to some persons who wanted him 
upon business ; so, recommending it to me to 
continue my walk on the Twist side of the stile, 
he quitted me and return-ed to the house. 

The Twist side of the stile was the way to the 
vicarage. TKere were none of the neighbours 
I had liked better than the family tli»ere. Mr. 
and Mrs. Mandeville were most amiable and 
worthy people, and, not being over rich, had a 
large family : some of the boys had been occa- 
sionally my playmates, as the daughters had at. 
times visited my sister. I found myself got 
very near to their gate before I was aware ev-en 
of my own designs. It happened, that, in my 
ignorance of the world, as it's called, I was in 
some points as much unacquainted with myself 
as with other people. I had long perceived that 
the vicarage was tlie only house I really liked to 
visit. I had also perceived, but I could not 
quite account for it, that when Emily Mande- 
ville, which was the name of the eldest daugh- 
ter, either went out of the room, or came into 
the room, spoke to me, or I spoke to her, I had 
the queerest sensation about the region of my 
heart, tbat could be conceived. It seemed to 
beat and bump t-en times quicker than common. 
Thinks-I-to~myself, it's St. Vitus's dance. 

These symptoms I ks-ew to be greatly and 
rapidly increasing, so that I had a great mind 
to ask the apothecary about it : we had always 



:r» THINKS-I-*TOMYSELF. 

been great and particular friends. Whether 
her heart humped as mucii as mine, I had never 
vet asked her, — but she always appeared hap- 
j)y in my company : her temper was the sweet- 
est in the world, and as to her person, I cer- 
tainly need be under no such scruples as I was 
about Miss Twist's, if I could but describe it ; 
for, let all the females in the world read my 
book, none of them could wish to be more ele- 
gantly beautiful than Emily Mandeville : every 
one would of course desire to resemble her in 
'' voice and feature, form and gait :" — let every 
one, therefore, only/a?icj/ her as beautiful., and 
amiable^ and lovely as themselves, and 1 need 
say no more. Thinks -I-io-my self, that's enough, 
I found Mrs. Mandeville and her daughters 
all busily engaged : some working, some read- 
ing, and some drawing. Mr. Mandeville^ 
though not rich, nor over-well endowed, had, 
in his early days, kept much good company, as 
had Mrs. Mandeville also, so that, in a simple 
and plain manner, every thi,ng had an air of 
elegance ; — there was no vulgarity ; every 
thing was equally distant from a vain display of 
finery, and a shabby meanness. Mr. Mandeville 
had travelled, and was well acquainted both 
with books and men. He had a fixed and root- 
ed respect and reverence for every thing con- 
nected with religion, without the smallest tinc- 
ture of enthusiasm or bigotry. He was, per- 
haps, altogether, the most polished man in the 
neighbourhood, though many looked down up- 
on him from above ; while, from below, every 
body looked up to him ; that is, the poor all 
loved and respected him, for they knew the 
man ; the rich knew in general only his office ; 



THINKH-I-TO-MySELF. 37 . 

some were too great in their own conceits to 
associate with a country vicar, and some were 
of too mean capacity to be even capable of as- 
sociating with him. As for my father and 
mother, I must say, they thoroughly understood 
his worth, and in their intercourse with him, I 
can venture to assert, thought of nothing else. 
My father found him much above the common 
run of his country associates, and my mother 
found in Mrs. Mandeville a friend she cculd 
trust ; for she was free from vanity, and dis- 
dained all parade of forms and pretensions. 

During my visit at the vicarage the morning 
I am speaking of, something led us to advert to 
our great neighbours, the Twists. Mrs. Man- 
deville observed, that Miss Twist was extreme- 
ly accomplished ; — that she had had masters of 
all descriptions, and of course must have learned 
a great deal. I confess it surprised me always 
to hear any body speak well of the absent, and, 
therefore, (though, as for poor Miss Twist, I 
abominated her,) I heartily joined in the en- 
comiums. I agreed with Mrs. Mandeville in all 
she said ; for how could I do otherwise ? Miss 
Twist had had many masters, and therefore 
might naturally be expected to know much ; far 
more than I thought it necessary for hei to 
know: — she had learned I know not what. — 
music, dancing, painting, — these were common, 
vulgar accomplishments : — she had attended a 
world of fashionable lectures, and was there- 
fore supposed to understand Chemistry, Geolo- 
gy, Philology, and a hundred other ologies, for 
what I know, enough, as 1 thought, to distract 
her brain : however, I observed, that, when 1 
agreed so much with Mrs. Mandeville, my dear 
4 



'AS THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

friend Emily suddenly arose, and quitted the 
room : Thinks- I-to-my self, she's gone to fetch 
her thimble, or her scissors, or something or 
other ; but I immediately felt that bumpipg at 
my heart, of which I have spoken, come on so 
much, that I wished Miss Twist and all her ac- 
complishments at the bottom of the sea. — As it 
ivas growing late, I found it necessary to de- 
part ; and, therefore, getting up and shaking 
til em all by the hand, 1 wished them good 
morning, adding, as I shook the last hand of 
the interesting group. Pray tell Emily I wish 
her good bye, — which brought back all the 
bumping to so great a degree, that as I walked 
away I could scarce move or breathe. — Thinks- 
l-to-myself, it's certainly an apothecary's con- 
cern. — I must ask Mr. Bolus about it, as sure as 
can be, in a day or two. 

When I got home, I found that, among the 
visitors that had been at the Hall that morning, 
were Mr., Mrs., and Miss Twist, and her go- 
verness: I thought my father and mother 
seemed somewhat concerned that I had been 
out of the way ; but reproof I received none. 
They appeared to be in no manner displeased 
that I had been at the vicarage : — ^but the visit 
of the Twists, I found, had ended in an invita- 
tion, particularly extending to myself. 

We were, in three days from that time, to go 
to dine at JVicotium Castle. On the morning 
of the day v/e were to dine there, I found my 
mother prone to dwell upon the beauties oi 
JVicotium Castle : — what a delightful place it 
was ; adding also, as Mrs. Mandeville had done, 
what an accomplished girl Miss Twist was ; 
how very learned, and how very clever ! It is 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 3J) 

amazing what a relief I felt to the bumping a* 
my heart, whenever the conversation took this 
turn ; so that I began to take a pleasure in 
talking of Miss Twist. I was so easy and com- 
fortable the moment her name was mentioned, 
that any body could have been encouraged to 
go on with it : had Emily Mandeville been men- 
tioned, my malady would have returned so im- 
mediately that, no doubt^ the conversation would 
have stopped at once : but this never happened. 
Nobody thought of mentioning her to me, and 
I could have died upon the spot sooner than 
have mentioned her name to any body else. 

The day came for our visit to Nicotium Cas- 
tle. Thinks- I-to-77iy self, I'll ask if I may'nt 
dine at the vicarage : so at breakfast I humm'd, 
and haw'd, and ventared to say, " I had rather 
be excused going to Nicotium Castle." My 
father looked black ; my mother looked I know 
not how : Thinks- I-to-my self, it don't seem 
agreeable. " You cannot with propriety stay 
at home," says my father, " because you were 
so particularly invited :" Thinks- I-to-my self. 
what if I say I had the misfortune to be previ- 
ously engaged! so says I, as bold as brass — 
*' But I was previously engaged to dine at the 
vicarage !" — " Previously engaged !" says ray 
dear mother, " that cannot be : it would be a 
great act of rudeness to put off the Twists with 
an excuse like that." Tliinks- I-to-my self, I 
don't, know enough of the world to understand 
the exact nature of these put off's. My father 
said, " 1 7)iust go ;" — I made, therefore, no fur- 
ther objections. 

The hour came, and away we went. Every 
thing at the Castle was most splendid. There 



40 THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

was every sort of rarity : every thing that it 
was not easy to get: I would have g-iven the 
world to have sat by my dear mother, but, as 
accident would have it, I got exactly between 
Miss Twist and her governess. Thinks-I-to- 
myself, I hope she won't ask me about any of 
the ologies : as it happened, she did not ; but 
she talked to me very often ; offered me abun- 
dance of nice things ; and as for Mr. and Mrs. 
Twist, nothing could possibly exceed their at- 
tention. Thinks- I-to -myself, a fig for Mrs. 
Fidget : Clodpole is somebody of consequence 
at last ! In the evening, as more company came, 
we found that it was to end in a ball. I would 
have given ever so much to have danced with 
my father or mother : — not that I was so igno- 
rant as not to know that this was impossible, but 
I felt so inexpressibly shy as to dancing with 
any body else. Thinks- I-to-mys elf, I'll go and 
sit with the fiddlers ; but, unhappily, j«st as I 
was going, Mr. Twist came behind me: — 
" Young Gentleman," says he, " you must open 
the Ball witii my dai>ghter :" Thinks-I-to- 
myself if I must, I must : — so away I went, up 
to the top of about twenty couple. 

I had learned plenty of Latin and Greek of 
my tutor, but as for dancing, I knew but little 
of it. Thinks- I-to-myscIf, I wish I were a cow, 
or a sheep ; for, if ever they dance, they are 
not particular about steps; whereas I scarce 
seemed to know whether I was to begin with 
my heels or my toes: — however, away we 
went, and with a little pulling, and hauling, 
and pushing, and shoving, I got at last to the 
bottom of the room : Miss Twist twisted in and 
out so adroitly, that we happily arrived at our 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 41 

journey's end without any lives lost or limbs 
broke, though I thought all seemed to be in 
danger. " Pray," says Miss Twist, " don't en- 
gage yourself to any body else ;" Thinks-I-to- 
myself, I wish I could. In the mean time, all 
the young men in the room, [observed, came to 
ask her to dance ; but she was engaged for 
the whole evening to Mr. Robert Dermont: 
ThinJcs-I-to-myself, I'll let you off! But nothing 
would do ; I was fixed for the ovening ; and at 
supper had to preside, with the amiable heir- 
ess of the castle, at the second table. TJdnks- 
I-to-myself, I wish I Vvas at home, and a-bed, 
and asleep ; however, at last the entertainment 
happily came to an end, and away we all 
went. 

As we were upon our return, my mother ob- 
served how much I had been honoured in hav- 
ing had Miss Twist for a partner,— intimating 
that all the other young men that were there en- 
vied me. Thinks-l4o-myself, well they might : 
but, another time, I had rather they than me: 
however, luckily I escaped all my bumping at the 
heart : Emily Mandeviile was not of the party. 
Mr. and Mrs. Twist's invitations did not extend 
to the Vicarage ; but what was particularly 
provoking, when I got to bed at night, I felt a 
great bumjung, because she was not there. 
Thinks- I-to-my self, I must certainly take some 
physic. 

The very day ailer the ball, Mrs. and Miss 
Twists called upon my mother again. Much 
of the conversation, of course, turned upon the 
company that had met together the night before. 
Mrs. Twist expressed great satisfaction that 
her daughter had had so proper a partner: " T 



4i> THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

don't like her to dance, ma'am," says she, " but 
with people of family !" Thinks- I-to-my self, — 
" You know, Bob, you are to be a lord !" and 
now it's out! I began now to have some sus- 
picion how the land lay, as they say : — I began 
now to discern, that the Twists knew some- 
thing about the stile as well as my father. 
Thinks-I-to-n:yself, as sure as can be, they are 
inclined to replenish my empty coronet, and in- 
terweave a few leaves of tobacco with the Ba- 
ronial balls ; however, nothing of all this vi^as 
suffered to pass my lips. I looked upon it all 
as a good scheme, and admirably calculated to 
cure my bumping of heart ; for, Thinks-I-to- 
myself, it is impossible I could pass my life with 
Emily Mandeville, since my heart bumps so 
dreadfully, even at a distance. 

It was amazing the number of civilities and 
invitations that passed now between Nicotium 
Castle and Grumblethorpe Hall. They were 
continually coming to us, or we going to them. 
Mrs. Twist was always talking of people of 
family ; my father and mother always lament- 
ing to me the expectation of the unendowed 
Barony. All this while I continued in the ha- 
bit of visiting at the vicarage, though my heart 
bumped so excessively, whenever I was there, 
that I thought I must entirely give it up. 

One (>ay, as I was walking in the garden 
with Mrs. Mandeville and the females of the 
family, it came into my head that Emily would 
like to have a beautiful moss-rose that I had 
just gathere-d : Thinks- I-to -myself, I'll go and 
stick it in her bosom : — at that very moment I 
bad such an extraordinary seizure of the bump- 
ing at my heart, that I was ready to drop ; bi|t 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 43 

what appeared to me more strange was, that I 
could not go to her, do what I would ; for the 
first time in my life, I felt a sort of dread of 
her. While Mrs. Mandeville had been ques- 
tioning me about the ball at Nicotium Castle, 
a little before, I thought she tooked displeased 
with me , and when I expected it of her as a 
friend that she would have liked to hear of the 
notice that had been taken of me, I observed 
she walked quite away : — 1 had never quarrel- 
led with her in all my life, nor she with me : — 
I would have done any thing to have served 
her, or pleased her ; and now that I felt afraid 
of her, I still seemed to want to serve her, and 
please her more than ever : Thinks-I-to-myself, 
certainly I am bewitched ; — soon after, she 
came up to us of her own accord: Thinks-I-to- 
myself, now I'll give the rose ; so I went to her 
with it, and was going to offer it ; but my tongue 
suddenly got so perfectly dry in my mouth, 
that I'll be hanged if I could speak a word. 
Thinks-I-to-myself, I am certainly going to die. 
I was so frightened, I got away as soon after 
as I could ; but the bumping continued all the 
way home, worse, I think, than ever. I was 
afraid to tell my mother of it, because I knew 
she would send for Mr. Bolus, and that al- 
ways ended in such severe and long-continued 
discipline, generally beginning with an emetic, 
which tore me to pieces, that I always kept 
my maladies to myself as long as I could. 

As my sister was just come home, I asked 
her about it ; but she only laughed at me, 
though I could not tell why : I got into my fa- 
ther's library, one morning, m order to try if I 
could fna my case in any of the physical books 



44 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

there, of which he had a store. I looked into 
a good many, just running over the symptoms 
of each, which caught my eye, as being in capi- 
tal letters, thus, symptoms, — and it is past all 
conception what a variety of diseases I seemed 
to have ; for to look for bumping, only, was 
nothing ; the more I read, the more symptoms 
I detected ; — I was not aware of a hundredth 
part of what I suffered, till the hook suggested 
them ; — I plainly saw my case to be (at least I 
thought so then) a complication of all the 
classes, orders, genera, and species of disease, 
that had ever afflicted the race of man. As 1 
went along, and questioned myself as to the 
several symptoms of the different disorders as 
laid down in the book, I foimd I had not only 
humpings, but dreadful pains in my head and 
loins, with a weariness of limbs ; stretching, 
yawning, shivering, and shaking, which are 
pretty plain signs, as any body must allow, of 
an approaching fever ; I had a rigour, or chilli- 
ness, pains in my back, difficulty of breathing. 
I had a violent pricking pain in one of the sides, 
deep down among my ribs, which was manifest- 
ly a pleurisy or peripneumony ; I could not ex- 
actly discern which : I had violent ffushings in 
the face, disturbed sleep, and a singing in my 
ears, which seemed to me to indicate a phreni- 
tis : I had a painful tension on the right side 
also, just opposite the pricking pain on my left, 
under the false ribs, which I knew at once to 
be a disordered liver , in short, I ke^t looking 
and looking, till I was evidently convinced that 
I had not a sorand part about me ; and I should, 
I am persuaded, have taken to my bed, and 
died, to the great joy of Mrs. Fidget, if it had 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF 45 

not been that I rather wished to die. Ever 
since Emily Mandeville had looked grave at 
me, I had felt as bold as a lion about dying, 
and, I will venture to say, could have resolutely 
walked into the very arms of old Dry-bones 
with his hour glass, had I but met him any 
where in my walks. 

I did, however, take a little medicin-e, by ad- 
vice of the books, picked up here and there. I 
managed to buy some ipecacuanha, asafatida, 
Glauber^s salt, and compound tincture of senna, 
which, mixing up with a small parcel of jalap, 
and some succotrine aloes, (not very regularly, I 
confess, for I knew nothing of the proper pro- 
portions,) I took a tea-spoonful night and morn- 
ing, for three days, which so effectually moved 
my stomach, as to give me, as I thought, the 
fairest chance of a perfect recovery ; however, 
not so ; I could not reach the humping, after all, 
which occurred so instantaneously upon the 
smallest recollection of Emily Mandeville, that, 
had she been old and ugly, or had she ever 
been seen in the air on a broom, it must have 
convinced me, that she was the exact person 
that had bewitched me. I continued in this 
state for some days after my sister's return 
home ; during which time Miss Twist came 
often to see her in her carriage, and Emily 
Mandeville once on foot : I could plainly per- 
ceive, that, though the latter did not at all mind 
coming on foot, the former was very proud in- 
deed of coming in her carriage : but, what was 
odd, even this difference between the two, as 
soon as 1 perceived it, brought on the bumping 
at my heart : Thinks-I-to-myself, Emily shall 
rme in her carriasre too. 



40 THINKS I-TO-MYSELF. 

I know not how long I might have remained 
in this miserable, uncertain state, had it not 
been for the most unlooked-for accident, that 
ever befel one in my sad condition. One day 
that Miss Twist had dined with us, she and my 
sister, in the evening, were playing and sing- 
ing at the piano-forte. They both sung ex- 
tremely well, only Miss Twist was so abomina- 
bly affected, I could not bear to look at her 
while she sung, but stood at a distance, gene- 
rally, listening to the words. Music I delight- 
ed in ; especially, 1 found, since the first attack 
of my humping — there were some tunes so ex- 
quisitely soothing and delightful, I could scarce 
bear them ; and some of the words of the songs 
seemed to me to touch my complaint : Miss 
Twist, I perceived, had a particular knack in 
fixing upon such songs : at last there came one 
that completely opened my poor dull eyes ; the 
two first verses were sufficient. I had not 
made complete experiment of all, — but my eyes 
were opened, as I say : Thinks- I-to-my self, 
" that's enough :" as I whispered to my sister 
to beg her to repeat it, I could not help mark- 
mg every word, the second time, and accom- 
panying them with my usual soliloquies. 

" When Delia on tlie plain appears," 

sung Miss Twist: — Thinks-I-to-myself, when 
Emily Mandeville walks in the garden, 

" Awed by a thousand tender fears, 

" I would approach, but dare not move j" 

Thinks-I-to -myself, symptoms ! — the exact 
case to a . hair ! never was any thing more 
plain ! — 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 47 

" Tell me, my heart, if this be love 1" 

Yes, undoubtedly! Neither /^-ye?-, nor pleurisy, 
nor peripneumony, nor phrenitis, nor a diseased 
liver, but love ! downright love. My eyes 
were opened, I say. 

As ill luck would have it, however, Miss 
Twist, I believe, thought her eyes were opened 
too. She had no questions to ask her heart 
about love, for I believe she v.as perfectly inca- 
pable of that amiable passion in any serious 
degree ; nothing, I am confident, would ever 
have made h.er heart bump as mine did ; but, 
having been instructed and tutored at home to 
lay siege to my expected Barony that was 
coming from the North, and having fully learn- 
ed to believe, from Father, Mofher, Governess, 
Nurse, &c. &c. &c., that there was nothing 
she could purchase, with her riches, half so 
valuable as a coronet and supporters for her 
carriage, having the Twist arms in the full 
middle of all, as an heiress, she was interested 
in aH the love-symptoms that could, by any 
means, be discovered in the heir apparent of 
all these valuables ; and therefore she thought 
it worth her while to make that malady her 
study ; and, as she couM not fairly ask to feel 
my pulse, she could only judge at a distance, 
as it were : so she had made already almost as 
much of this one verse as I had : " When Dt- 
lia on the plain appears,'''' was to her, "v;he3i 
Miss Twist comes in her carriage ;" — " Awed 
hy a thousand tender fears, I would approach,'''' - 
she put, "He would approach ;" that is, me, (me, 
myself, me,) the clodpole, " he would approacii, 
bui dare not move." 



4b THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

I don't wonder she was mistaken ; for cer- 
tainly I "was awed" though not by ''^ Under 
fears :" I was afraid of her ologics, and heap 
of vain accc nplisliments ; — and, though / cer- 
tainly did not wish to approach her, yet, as I 
certainly did iiot approach her so mu.ch as she 
wished and expected, it was a fair conjecture 
to think I would, but could not, and that I dared 
not move, and so, take it altogether, no wonder 
her pride and prepossessions plainly told her, 
that this was love ; love in me towards her own 
sweet perswi ; she therefore made sure of her 
game : the song being asked for again, convinc- 
ed her that it was by way of enabling her to dis- 
cover the precious secret : so that she felt quite 
convinced of being her Ladyship already, and 
wondered what could make the old people in the 
North live so long : my father and mother also, 
I apprehended, she wished somewhat older^ 
though perhaps she would have allowed the 
hitter a little respite as a Dowager. 

I thought, however, I had made two discove- 
ries from this song : the third stanza pleased 
•lie as much as any ; for, by applying it to Emi- 
ly Mandeville, I began to flatter myself I had 
discovered a reason for her turning a»A^ay, 
when her mother and I were talking so much 
about the ball at Nicotmm Castle, a*nd the ac- 
complisnments of Miss Twist. 

" If she some other youth commend.' 

Thinks- I-to-7ny self, why not — " If he some oth- 
er maid commend?" — "Though I was once 
his fondest friend ;" — " Why not," says I, 
''her fondest friend ?" — " His insta«t enemy I 



THINKS-I-TO MYSELF. 49 



and so on : — surely, Thinks-I-to-myself, — symp- 
toms again : — my heart bumped more than ever, 
but it was become quite'a pleasant sensation ; 
— I had quite given up all thoughts of asking 
the apothecary about it ; — I meant, hencefor- 
ward, to ask nobody about it but Dr. Emily 
Mandeville. 

I had not time yet to thmk the least in the 
world about Miss Twist's disappointment ; in- 
deed, I could not care a halfpenny about it; 
for, Thinks-I-to-myself, love won't kill her, and 
there's coronets enough to be had for money ; 
who knows but she may buy an Earl or a Duke ; 
but poor Emily Mandeville can't buy even a 
B^ron : and thus I ran on whenever my 
thoughts took that turn : — however, I could not 
help now beginning to make comparisons be- 
tween the heiress of Nicotium Castle and the 
meek-eyed maiden of the Vicarage. Thinks- 
l-io-myself, what's all her Chemistry and Ge- 
ology, and French and Italian, to the plain 
sense and rational understanding of Emily 
Mandeville ? What are all the airs and graces, 
and conceit and affectation, of the haughty 
Miss Twist, to the artless simplicity and unas- 
suming innocence of the Vicar's daughter ? 
She may ride in her coach, and have necklaces 
and bracelets of the choicest jewellery ; she 
may sing like a Catalina, or dance like a Doga- 
lani ; but I want not to pass my life amidst 
diamonds and rubies ; I want something better 
to associate with than the puppets of an Opera 
flouse. 

But there was one circumstance, with regard 
to the Twists, that iiad a great tendency to set 



50 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

me against them :— they seemed to me to have 
no sense of religion ; — their pew at church was 
generally empty ; or, if they chanced to come 
there, they were too late, or there was such a 
talking in their pew, or they seemed none of 
them to have any books, or they knew nothinj^ 
of the sermon afterwards, or something* or 
other happened to convince me that they had 
not any of them any proper sense of religion at 
all ; — Church was a bore to Miss Twist ; — M 
Mandeville's sermons were shockingly loni 
— her papa always took a novel in his pocke 
and Mrs. Twist wished she was close to the 
parson witii a spur, to urge him on a little 
quicker ; now I shall make no scruple to say, 
that I had ever a propensity to hold such sort 
of people in absolute contempt and abhorrence ; 
—my father and mother had each of them a 
just sense of religion ; they were Christians, 
not in form only, but at heart ; they never dis- 
puted about it, or made a parade of it; but any 
thing that In the least offended against the sa- 
credness of place, person, or thing, connected 
with religion, excited their displeasure ; so that 
I was bred up from a child to entertain a reve- 
rence for whatever belonged to it ; and it is 
no wonder that this should have led me to look 
more narrowly into tho^je matters, and make it 
no subordinate object of my studies : — I was 
fond of books always : — I had been admirably 
instructed : — Mrs. Fidget thought me a clod- 
pole because I could not talk in the way she 
did ; but while she talked without thinking, I 
thought iviihout talking: — I would not be so 
uncivil to Mrs. Fidget as to insist upon it, with- 
out farther argument, that I bad the advan- 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF 'A 

tage ; but it appeared to me, I must confess, 
that I was no clodpole for what I did. I never 
shall regret the want of lang-uage that may 
have excited Mrs. Fidget's spleen ; want of 
thought would have given me more concern. 
But to return to what I was discoursing 
upon : — 

Bred up as I had been, it may easily be sup- 
posed Mr. Mandeville's house, and manners, and 
way of going on, were more congenial to my 
feelings than the empty glare and glitter of Ni- 
cotium Castle : at Mr. Mandeville's every thing 
was regular, comfortable, and consistent ; one 
would have stepped at any time out of his 
house into the other world without confusion ; 
but at Nicotium Castle nothing was regular, 
nothing comfortable, nothing natural, all arti- 
ficial ; and, as for stepping out of that gaudy 
Castle into the other world, it was quite hor- 
rible and shocking to think of it. Thinks-I-to- 
myself, (often,) What will the angels say to 
thee, Mr. Tv/ist, when thou appearest at the 
gates of heaven ! Alas I Thinks-I-to-myself, 
surely I know : — " Thou in thy life-time receiv- 
edst thy good things, likewise Lazarus evil 
things :" I had not so little charity as to be 
ever able to proceed ; for, after all, the melan- 
choly thing was, ]\Ir. Twist knew nothing 
about the other world ! he knew much more of 
the Sporting Calendar than of the Bible. He 
thought, probably, (if he ever thought at all 
upon the subject,) that there was a regular 
Nicotium Castle prepared for him among the 
many mansions we read of in the Book of God; 
and that, if there were any thing that might 
not come to him in the way of inheritance, 
merit, or grace, money could purchase it. 



52 THINKS- 1-TO-MYSELF. 

I am afraid I have fallen deep into a digres- 
sion : — well, then, gentle reader, if you don't 
like this digression, burn all the rest of the 
book, but don't touch the digression itself: 
give it me back again ; I value it ; — I don't 
care what you like or dislike ; upon that par- 
ticular topic I will speak my mind : If I am to 
be a dodpole, let me, for God's sake, be at 
least a religious one. 

My worthy, good and kind mother thought 
the ball at Nicotium Castle was too pointed 
not to render it strictly incumbent on her to 
give a ball at Grumblethorpe Hall ; at which, 
good soul, I make no manner of doubt, she 
looked forward, with feelings something like 
those of Mrs. Twist, (only not so vulgar,) to the 
pleasure of seeing Miss Twist and me dance 
together. She spoke of it to my father, and, 
as he thought it quite right, to be sure it must 
be done directly : — for the only thing, in which 
I think my poor mother might be vulgar and 
unfashionable, was, that of having a perfect 
deference to the opinion of my father, — so 
much so, that I have often thought she really 
loved him : — but what made a great puzzle and 
combustion among us sometimes, was, that my 
father had just as great a deference for my 
mother ; so that, if, by any untoward accident, 
any project, business, or engagement, hung 
upon a balance between them, it was almost 
impossible that it should ever get settled ; each 
insisting so strenuously not to have it their own 
way, that, I am confident, had it been left to 
them to settle the planetary system, and the 
dispute had been about the right and left course 
of the orbits, that glorious luminary, the sun. 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 53 

might have stood still for ever, without a single 
body to revolve around him. 

Well, the ball was of course determined 
upon, and the day fixed ; and, in two days after 
the determination, a pack of printed cards hav- 
ing been procured, numberless invitations were 
written, many of them by Clod Pole himself; 
but here a great difficulty arose ; — my sister 
wished all the Mandevilles to be invited, and 
to have beds at the Hall ; my mother assured 
her they were not of the party at Nicotium 
Castle ; — " not," says she, "that I think them 
unworthy of having been there, for, on the 
contrary, I think it would have been better had 
Mrs. Twist invited them, but only now they 
will not expect to be invited ; but I will see 
what your father says :" I said nothing, and I 
thought nothing ! for I was, as it were,Jlabber- 
gasted: — what that means, I don't know, but, 
having heard it used upon occasion by very 
elegant people, I adopt it, as it seems to me to 
mean something very applicable to my feelings. 

I shall cease to describe the bumpings I had 
at my heart, because I now understood them, 
and thought them quite natural. I confess, I 
felt anxious about my father's coming home, 
though neitiier my mother nor my sister said 
a word about it : at last, however, he came ; — 
he had been out a riding with Mr. and Miss 
Twist, of all the people in the world, so that I 
augured rather unfavourably as to the issue of 
the business : — he was not long returned be- 
fore he came into my mother's room : Thinks- 
I-to-myaelf, I wish I was, dead and buried. I 
expected them to begin 'upon it immediately ; 
but no such thing : — the deuce of a word was 
5* 



54 THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

uttered, either about the Twists or the Mande- 
villes, for a full quarter of an hour at least : — 
at last my sister began ; says she, " Pa.pa, don't 
you mean that the Mandevilles shall be invited 
to the ball ?" 

Just at this moment the servant entered, and 
my father v/as called out of the room ; I could 
have freely knocked the fellow on the head. — 
Thinks- I-to-my self, he did it on purpose ; — how- 
ever, the business was not urgent, and my fa- 
ther came back again ; says my sister, as be- 
fore, " Papa, don't you mean to have the Man- 
devilles invited to the ball ?" " Who are in- 
vited," says ray father. "Every body," says 
my mother, " that was at Nicotium Castle." — 
" The Mandevilles were there," says my father 
hastily. " No, not one of them," says my 
mother. — " Then," says my father, " it's a 

-■ — shame ! !" — My mother, and my sister, 
and myself, all slunk back ; such an expression 
from'such a mouth bespoke an earnestness we 
were unaccustom.ed to : says my father, " Are 
you sure they were none of them there .^" — " In- 
deed," says my mother, " they were none of them 
invited." — " Then," says rny father, •' send 
to them directly, and tell 'em we have beds for 
them all ; and tell 'em we'll send the carriage 
for them ; and tell 'em to bring my favourite 
young Tom ; and tell 'em they had better come 
to dinner, that they may be in time ;" — so say- 
ing, he quitted the room, and banged the door 
after him, as much as to say, " I'm almost in a 
passion:" — my mother said not a word, but 
went and got some paper ; — says she, " Don't 
send a card ; it's too formal ; here, write what 
four father said," holding out a sheet of paper ; 



THINK S-1-TO-MYSELF. 55 

— my sister gladly took the pen, and scribbled 
away the full amount of my father's liberal in- 
vitation : — I wished very much to be the mes- 
senger to carry the note to the Vicarage, but 
I could not muster up quite courage enough to 
propose it ; — so it was sent in a common way. 

My mother was particularly anxious not to 
be at any extraordinary expense about the ball, 
though my sister had heard a great deal about 
the splendour of that at Nicotium Castle, and 
wished, of course, that ours should be as grand : 
I am not sure but she had some bumpings at the 
heart about it, she seemed so earnest ; but my 
mother took pains to convince her, that extrava- 
gance was no real mark of gentility ; that it 
was better to appear to want some things that 
might have been procured, than to go nmch out 
of the way to procure things that might rea- 
sonably be dispensed with ; — says she, " My 
dear, the Twists sent for every thing from 
London ; surely it is better to have it supposed 
that we need send for nothing /" 

It may easily be imagined that, till the day 
came, not much else was thought of; — it was 
amusement to my mother and sister ; it had 
much in it to produce my humpings at heart ; 
and, as for my father, he waited patiently for it, 
I believe, without giving himself a moment's 
concern about the business. Though I had not 
ventured to ask to carry the note to the Vi- 
carage, I could not help going there soon after, 
over Twist stile and all. When I got there, I 
said, " I hoped we should see them ;" for they 
did not immediately answer the note, not know 
ing how to arrange about the dining and sleep 
lug, &-C. — Says I, " I hope you will all come ;'' 



56 THLNKS-l-TO-xMYSELF. 

and, Thinks- I-to-my self, I hope my dear Emily 
will dance with me ; but as for uttering it, I 
might as well have been born dumb : it passed 
in my mind freely enough, to and fro, upwards 
and downwards ; but out of my mind not a 
hair's breadth : I looked and sighed, and, like 
Alexander the Great, " sighed and looked 
again." " Pray," Says Emily, " do the Twists 
dine and sleep there ?" Says I, " O no, God 
forbid I" — I was afraid I had spoken too hastily, 
but I took particular notice that she looked un- 
commonly happy : I took my leave soon after, 
and returned home. 

At length the day of days came. The car- 
pet was taken up in the drawing-room, and the 
floor all chalked in fine coloured figures and 
compartments. All the Mandevilles came to 
dinner ; but it was rather bustle and confusion, 
for the dining room was to be the supper-room, 
and, so, soon ivanted : — however, I was much 
pleased with some conversation that took place 
between my father and Mr. Mandeville after 
dinner. 

" T wish, Mr. Mandeville," says my father, 
"every body would bring up their family as 
you bring up yours." 

" I don't know, sir," says Mr. Manueville ; 
" T bring them up to learn all that I think really 
necessary, and all that it is in my power to 
teach them." 

"That's just what I like," says my father; 
" why should our children bo made so much 
wiser than ourselves ? Why should it be 
thought necessary that, because there happens 
now to be a orofusion o^teachers in all branches 
of knowledxTO, every thing that is to be taught 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 57 

must be learned ? Why am I to be bound to 
give guinea after guinea to have my daughter 
taught every thing that other people choose 
to learn, and merely on that account^ without 
the least regard to her natural genius, taste, 
or capacity ; and w^hen I am perfectly assured 
that more than half of what she so learns can 
be of. no benefit to her husband, or her chil- 
dren, or her children's children, and can only 
be acquired by a profligate waste and expense 
of that time, which not only might be bestowed 
on studies of real importance, but on such as 
must tend to the use, and benefit, and delight, 
of all connected with her ? There's our neigh- 
bour. Miss Twist, — to be sure she knows, in 
some way or other, abundance of things : — 
she is what the world calls highly accomplish- 
ed ; nor am I disposed to blame her parents for 
any care or cost they have bestowed on her ; 
but the effect of it is, in many cases, absurd 
and preposterous : — if it tends to set off the 
daughter, it tends as much to degrade the pa- 
rents ; for it is self-evident, that neither Mr. 
nor Mrs. Twist have suflicient knowledge of 
half the things their daughter hath been taught, 
to be able to judge of her progress and acquire- 
ments ; — it is fifty to one but that, in merely 
talking of them, they continually expose them- 
selves by their ignorance and blunders ; and, 
what is worse than all, their daughter must 
know that they do so, i/" she know any thing 
as she should do : now yotw daughters, Mr. 
Mandeville, learn of you and Mrs. Mandeville 
nothing but what is, and ever will he, essential^ 
useful, proper, and becoming ; and, learning it 
of you, and you only, they never can come to 



58 THINK S-I-TO-MYSELF. 

look down upon you ; they must look up to you^ 
as children should do, with respect, and reve- 
rence, and esteem ; and the utmost of their as- 
piring must be, to be as wise and as good as 
yourselves. Besides, Mr. Mandeville, as to the 
great and only knowledge, that is of real im- 
portance to us all, you must know better than 
me, that it is almost the only kind of learning 
they never take much pains to acquire : — I 
don't suppose any of your learned profession 
were ever called upon by father, mother, or 
guardian, to teach their son, or daughter, or 
ward, Divinity, — tliat is, I mean, Christianity ; 
and yet a few guinoas, so bestowed, might, 
perhaps, go as far to help their appearance in 
the other world, as many guineas in this ; ay, 
and benefit some fellow-creature, possibly, of 
more worth than fifty fiddlers or dancing 
masters. 

" I wish, Mr. Mandeville, you could get the 
Tv/ists to attend church a little oftener : — I 
hate to see their pew empty almost every Sab- 
bath day ; it is quite a pity : — Twist is a good 
natured rattle, and as for Mrs. Twist, I am 
confident, that, if anybody could ever once con- 
vince her that there were one or two accom- 
plishments wanting to sether daughter off to ad- 
vantage, (for that is the great object of all mo- 
thers, now-a-days.) in another world besides 
this, whi^h I fear has never once entered Mrs. 
Twist's head ; I am persuaded, I say, that she 
would not neglect to inquire after some teacher 
or other, who might render her not deficient in 
the courts above." 

Mr. Mandeville was preparing to reply, when 
a solemn message was brought from the upper 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF 5ri 

house, which was privately delivered to my fa- 
ther : Thinks-I-to-7nyself, a motion to adjourn, 
— and so it turned out, — for the Speaker imme- 
diately quitted the chair, and, after asking Mr, 
Mandeville if he would drink any more wine, 
he publicly announced the summons he had had 
to the drawing-room, and we prepared to follow 
him. 

When we went up stairs, the room was al- 
most full. My father, of course, went boldly 
into the middle of them all : — Mr. Mandeville 
and myself remained near the door. I cast my 
eyes round and round, and round again, before 
I could fairly discern what I most wished to 
see ; — at length I espied on one side of the 
room, behind a number that were standing up, 
Mrs. and the three Miss Mandevilles sitting 
close together, like a hen and so many chick- 
ens ; — I felt an irresistible desire to go to them, 
but, though there was a near way of doing it, 
I found, upon attempting it, I could not stir ; 
— I felt just as if my right leg wanted to go, 
but my left leg pulled it back: — Thinks-I-to- 
myself, " I would approach, but dare not move r 
— " Tell me, my heart," &c. At length a fresh 
party arrived, and we were fairly pushed fur- 
ther into the room .' — I then did sedulously en- 
deavour to keep in that direction ; and, as Mr. 
Mandeville seemed to have no other object as 
well as myself, we gradually got nearer and 
nearer, though continually interrupted, of 
course, by tJie greetings and salutes of divers 
persons and parties v/hom we passed. Nothing 
ran in my head but the being in time to ask 
Emily to dance with rue the two first dances : 
but as for hastening to her for this purpose, it 



(;U THINKS-l-TO MYSELF. 

was quite out of the question ; ray left leg still 
kept pulling me back, as I thought. 

Some preparations now began to be made for 
beginning the ball ; and I felt quite sure that I 
should be too late to accomplish my end, when, 
as good luck would have it, Mr. Mandeville 
made a bold push to get at them, and I follow- 
ed close in the rear : — the point nov/ seemed to 
me to be accomplished : — I had got close to 
Emily, and was just in the act of stooping to 
ask her to be my partner, (for human thread- 
papers, you know, are generally pretty tall,) 
when I received such a horrible pinch just 
on the tender part above the elbow of my 
right arm, that I had liked to have scream- 
ed aloud : Thinks- t-to-myself, sY>ring-guna and 
steel-traps, as sure as I am born ! ! — It was 
my father, in fact, v,?ho, leaning over two 
benches, said, in great haste, " Bob, come here ; 
I have engaged you to Miss Twist :" — being 
too confused to think or say any thing to my- 
self, as customary, I mechanically answered, 
"Pll come directly, sir," possibly with an ap- 
pearance of joy rather than sorrow, for these 
contradictions were among the symptoms of 
my complaint. I was just going to rfay to Emi- 
ly, " Pray dance with me the two next dances," 
but, alas ! at that instant a tall, dashing young 
man came up to her, and asked her to dance ; 
and she assented, as I fancied, with peculiar 
satisfaction. 

I now had to find my father and Miss Twist, 
which I was not long in doin^ ; — the music 
had begun to play, and ail was in a complete 
bustle. 1 found Miss Twist standing before 
Mrs. Twist, who seemed to be looping up her 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 61 

gown, and making other preparations for dan- 
cing : — I went to her, putting on my glovey. 
" Miss Twist," says I, " I believe I am to have 
the honour of dancing with you :" — she bobbed 
something at me, which, I suppose, she called 
a courtesy, and was soon ready to be led into 
the ranks ; — but here fresh difficulties again 
ensued : — my mother had carefully invited all 
that she had met at Nicotium Castle ; but, being 
much better known in the neighbourhood, and 
wDling that none should be excluded, her in- 
vitations had extended upwards and downwards 
to many more : — at the lower extremity, be- 
sides the Mandevilles, there was another Cler- 
gyman's family, three young ladies who lived 
with an old aunt, just by, that never went out, 
and poor Miss Creepmouse, who, also, seldom 
got such a holiday : — there were some young 
men, whose parents were worthy, but not over 
genteel, and a few officers from the barracks, 
particularly and respectably recommended to 
their notice ; . (Mrs. Twist had invited them 
all indiscriminately ;) at the upper extremity, 
there were the additions of Lord and Lady 
Charleville, the two Miss Charleville-s, a niece 
of Lord Charleville's, and his eldest son, a 
Lieutenant in the guards ; — there were Sir 
Henry and Lady Lydiard, their three daugh- 
ters, and two sons ; — there were, besides, a 
Mr. Wentworth, and Lady Maria Wentworth, 
the sister of a Scotch Marquis, and their 
daughter, Miss Wentworth. Lord Charleville 
had thought it proper to engage my sister, and 
led her to the top of the room. 

Poor Miss Twist, having begun her own ball, 
very much wished, I believe, to begin ours too ; 
6 



62 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

— she sidled up close to my sister, and seemed 
evidently to wish to stand at least next to her : 
— the order of precedency, I believe, had never 
yet been duly studied at Nicotmm Castle : — I 
began to be frightened because at one time the 
Miss Charlevilles, who were not what I call 
high-hred, but thorough-hiedj seemed disposed 
to overlook her attempt to get above them, and 
to give way to her, which would have made 
her so conspicuously wrong, that I should have 
been quite distressed ; my sister managed to 
prevent it by gently retaining the Miss Charle- 
villes next to her, and we were obliged to cast 
down two couple ; — that brought us to the Miss 
Lydiards : — they were by no, means so well in- 
clined to part with their places; — they well 
knew that they must come next to the Honoura- 
bles : — as they hung together, we were here 
obliged to cast down three couple more ; — and 
then came another hitch, for there stood Miss 
Wentworth ; but the youngest Miss Lydiard 
grasped so fast hold of her hand, just at the 
moment Miss Twist made her last effort to in- 
sert herself among the grandees, that we were 
compelled to cast off one more couple, and did 
not therefore fairly get a place till we were the 
eighth couple from the top. 

As I had nothing to do but to keep pace with 
her on the gentleman's side of the party, I at 
length got my proper station opposite to her : 
Thinks-I-to-myself — mortified ! as it manifestly 
proceeded from ignorance, I felt sorry for her, 
though it was well for her to gain such expe- 
rience any how : Mrs. Twist, feeling, if possi- 
ble, more for her than she felt for herself, came 
up to her, and I overheard her whisper, — " They 



THINKS-J-TO-MYSELF. G3 

are the Honourable Miss Charlevilles, and Sir 
Henry's daughters, you know," and so on, — 
which, I apprehend, gave her some comfort and 
consolation : how much I cannot pretend to 
say. 

The ball had now actually begun. I ven- 
tured to cast my eyes frequently down towards 
where the Miss Mandevilles stood, and every 
time it struck me that Emily seemed particu- 
larly happy with her partner; — hov/ much 1 
wished her to be walking in the garden at the 
Vicarage I Thinks- I-fo-mj/self, I'll never go 
there again :— as we drew near to the top, it 
struck me that, whenever we set off, we should 
make a rattling like that of a team of horses 
with their loose harness returning from plough ; 
for Miss Twist had on her neck such a profu- 
sion of pendent ornaments, that it looked as if 
m dressing she had taken no other care, but to 
avoid leaving one trinket behind ; she had on, 
first, an exceeding handsome pearl necklace ; 
then, suspended to one gold chain, a locket, 
richly set in diamonds, in which appeared to 
be twisted and entwined the respective ringlets 
of her honoured parents ; then, suspended to 
another gold chain, an agate essence bottle set 
in gold, filled with otto of roses ; and besides 
that, though she was about as near sighted as 
a lynx, suspended on a third gold chain an eye 
glass, surrounded with large pearls ; how all 
these things v/ere to be safely conveyed to the 
end of thirty or forty couple, appeared to me 
to be a mystery ; and, as it happened, I was 
right; for we had scarcely got down three 
couple, before the gold mounted essence bottle 
fell foul of the pearl eye-glass, and broke it all 



64 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

to pieces ; the glass itself was of course no 
loss, and, as it drew the attention of all the 
company to the splendour of the setting, it had 
a most desirable effect. Thinks- I-to-my self, 
that will be mended before the next ball, and 
perhaps the essence bottle will be left to dan 
gle just as near to it as ever. 

As soon as this little interruption was settled, 
which brought up Mrs. Twist, and seemed to 
interest her exceedingly, we went on, turning 
and twisting, generally so separated from each 
other that I had little occasion to talk to her ; 
and I was heartily glad of it, — when we got to 
Miss Mandeville and her dashing partner, I had 
to set corners with her, and turn her ; I had 
determined to give her a little gentle rebuke 
for her indifference ; but, when I touched her 
hand, my tongue cleaved to the roof of my 
mouth, and I could not utter a word: — I had 
the resolution, however, to swing her off with 
a remarkable air of unconcern, and 1 flattered 
myself that she seemed hurt ; Thinks-I-to-my- 
seJf, — affronted ! When we had really got to 
the bottom. Miss Twist fanned herself, and 
breathed hard : I said, " It is very hot, but it 
was a pretty dance ;" — " too crowded ;" — and 
a number of other common-place ball remarks, 
which did very well, and were quite enough, 
1 have a notion, to satisfy her that I was in 
love with her : we danced down the second 
dance together, and then she bobbed a courtesy, 
and I bobbed a bow, like Mother Hubbard and 
her Dog, and it was all very well settled. 

As I went up to my sister directly after- 
wards, I was amused with the different manner 
in which I found all the party came to ask her 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 65 

the same question : — of course, as m all other 
balls, there was a certain sprinkling of fine la- 
dies, and quizzy gentlemen, as well as of quiz- 
zy ladies and fine gentlemen ; so that the seve- 
ral partnerships were, as it might be, ill or 
well-arranged : those that happened to be well 
mated, and to have found partners to their satis- 
faction, came slowly up to my sister, and rather 
plaintively, and timidly, addressed her, " Do we 
change partners, Miss Dermont ?" — but those 
who were ill-matched, and wanted to shake oflT 
a quizzy partner, came boldly up, " We change 
partners, don't we. Miss Dermont?" — T made 
many observations of this nature, though no- 
body guessed what I was about ; — I saw abun- 
dance of untoward circumstances, though well 
disguised, that convinced me it might be very 
neighbourly, but was m reality the cruellest 
thing in the world to make such a party. 

During the two first dances, I was sorry to 
see poor Mrs. Fidget, who had two daughters 
in the room, quite unable to get a partner for 
either : they were, in truth, very cross looking 
girls, and by no means popular in the neigh- 
bourhood : she came repeatedly behind me, 
during the dance, with Miss Matilda hanging 
upon her arm, complimented me about my dan- 
cing, and my good looks : as I never had any 
malice in my disposition, I really should have 
been glad to have asked her daughter to dance ; 
but, while I had resolved in my own mind to 
die rather than ask Emily Mandeville, yet I 
could not help wishing to keep myself disen- 
gaged, for fear I should die if I by any means 
put it out of my power to dance with her. 



OG THINKIS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

All the Mandevilles were so pretty that they 
never wanted partners ; — beauty brings down 
pride as well as money, or any thing ; — had 
there been fifty lords in the room, I'll be bound 
Emily Mandeville might have danced with 
them all : — I studiously avoided taking any no- 
tice of her, (though it occasioned horrible 
humpings,) and for the two second dances I 
engaged myself (by my mother's desire) to Miss 
Charleville. 

I was surprised to see with how much great- 
er ease and civility she conducted herself all 
down the dance than had been the case with 
Miss Twist : and, having no dangling ornaments 
at all, we got safely and without interruption 
to the bottom : — Thinks-I-to-myself, either Emi- 
ly Mandeville or Miss Charleville and I 

gave myself great credit for having the resolu- 
tion to compare any body with the former. 

It would be absurd to go more than neces- 
sary into the detail of the ball ; but, before it 
was over, one or two things occurred which I 
cannot leave uimoticed ; when Miss Twist had 
regularly surmounted all the seven couple that 
originally stood above her, and seen them safely 
removed to the bottom of the set, and had her- 
self fairly attained the summit, so that, accord- 
ing to the etiquette of things, it was her turn to 
call the two next dances— lo! and behold, she 
had no partner. I had been wandering about 
the room, watching Emily and her partner, and 
had not attempted to engage myself, when 
my mother cuame up to me, and desired that I 
would by all means, if not engaged, go and 
ask Miss Twist : at the moment, I am confi- 
dent, she had no thoughts of any thing but that 



THINK S-1-TO-MYSELF. 67 

of showing a civility to her company ; had any 
other been in that situation, she would have 
done the same, but now the business was out ; 
— I had occasion to know afterwards, that 
divers shrewd persons among the kindest of 
her neighbours had noticed the close siege she 
seemed to be laying to the Twist domains: 
Mr. Robert Dermont, it seems, had danced 
twice with Miss Twist, but not once with 
either of the Miss Fidgets ! twice with Miss 
Twist, but not once with any of the four Miss 
Gogmagogs ; — they might have added, twice 
with Miss Twist, and not once with either of 
the three Miss Mandevilles ; but, had I danced 
but once with any of the latter, a different sort 
of wonderment would no doubt have been ex- 
cited, and perhaps still more degrading in- 
sinuations thrown out ; as it was, my mother's 
artfid designs upon JVicotium Castle were 
judged to be as evident, and as capable of de- 
monstration, as if the settlements had been 
signed and sealed : all this I found out after- 
wards : — what added considerably to these foul 
appearances was, that, as ill luck would have it, 
the two dances called for by Miss Twist were 
the two last before supper, so that I was doom- 
ed to have the additional /eZtc% of handing her 
to the supper room, and sitting next to her at 
that awful solemnity ; — when every thing that 
is done, said, or seen, is sure to be taken strict 
account of, and made the subject of conversa- 
tion for the next half year. 

When supper was over, we returned to the 
ball-room, where we continued dancing, " till 
Phoebus 'gan to rise :" — I still sedulously 
avoided all the Mandevilles : — I felt sure that 



G3 THINKS-I-TO-M\SELF. 

Emily would dream of nothing but her smart 
partners, and that she did not deserve another 
bump of my poor heart , — before it was all fin- 
ished, how&ver, she appeared to be indisposed, 
and therefore quite retired from the set: — I 
had many doubts and misgivings whether I 
should condescend to go and ask her how she 
did : Thinks- I-to-my self, she has been smitten 
at first sight by some of her dashing partners, 
and why should not I leave her to suffer ? 

Whilij I was thinking all this, Mr. Mande- 
ville came and shook me hastily by the hand, 
" Good niffht," says he, " Emily is not very 
well, and Lady Charleville has been so obliging 
as to insist upon her carriage taking us home :" 
— Had I been shot through the heart, I could 
not have felt more I the Ball was nearly over, 
and all my happiness had been frustrated: I 
went with him to the party, where I found 
them all cloaking up, being in haste not to 
keep Lady Charleville's carriage waiting. 

I offered Emily my arm, which she accepted. 
" I am sorry," says I, " you are not well ; I was 
in hopes it had been particularly pleasant to 
you, you had such a heap of smart partners: 
" They were all strangers to me," she said in 
some haste : " Why, you did not like them the 
worse for that, surely !" said I ; — " Indeed," 
says she, "I should have liked old friends and 
acquaintances better, and you donH know me if 
you think otherivise :" — she had no sooner said 
it, than I fell into one of the most dreadful fits 
of bumping I ever felt : I had only time to 
press her hand, and help her into the carriage ; 
and, when I returned into the ball room, every 
thing looked stranger than I can describe ; 1 



THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. OJ 

felt that all I cared for was on the way to the 
Vicarage, and that I had fairly been making a 
fool of myself during the whole evening : to 
mend matters, Mrs. Twist came up to me, and 
asked me how the Mandevilles were to get 
home, plainly insinuating that they had no car- 
riage, but never offering her own : "Ma'am," 
says I, "my father's carriage brought them 
here, and would have conveyed them home, 
had not the Lord and Lady Charleville been so 
good as to insist upon their taking their coach :" 
then Mrs. Twist, for the first time, began to 
say, they should have been welcome to hers ; 
but I knew better. 

The ball at length ended ; every body went 
home to bed, and to sleep, except, probably, 
myself, who had the heart-bumping all night, 
besides pulses in my ears, and a hundred other 
love-sick affections. 

It was some time afterwards that it came 
into my head to take some account of this ball, 
which ray good father and mother had given 
solely with the view of contributing what they 
thought incumbent on them to the amusement 
and happiness of their neighbovrs, but which, 
in fact, or, at least, in all probability, turned 
out quite otherwise : in the first place, by en- 
deavouring to extend their invitations as far as 
they could, for the sake of pleasing as many as 
possible, they invited some to whom they were 
scarcely known ; this, of course, affronted many 
who were entirely strangers, but who conceived 
that they might as well have been asked as the 
others : by endeavouring to mortify no persons 
who had any pretensions to be invited, though 
not in a rank of life to associate generally witli 



70 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

the neighbourhood, they let loose upon thena 
abundance of persons, still lower, who judged 
themselves to be not only equal, but superior 
to those who were invited. 

I cannot describe to you how low we might 
have gone, had we endeavoured to satisfy all 
these prejudices and pretensions ; I am confi- 
dent that, in the course of things, the black- 
smith's wife would have felt insulted to have 
been left out. Then, as to the real pleasure 
and happiness afforded to those who came — 
above half undoubtedly went away dissatisfied ; 
some envying us things that they could not 
command at home ; some attributing all that 
they saw to the mere love of show and parade ; 
— there were some sorry their daughters had 
not found partners for every dance ; — some 
sorry they had been introduced to such low 
partners, quite beneath them ; — while, proba- 
bly, those very partners thought they had con- 
descended greatly to dance with them at all ; 
Mrs. Twist was evidently jealous of my mo- 
ther's being able to get certain grawc? and titled 
visitors that were not to be seen at Nicotium 
Castle, while those titled visitors had a hard 
matter to assume even their proper places 
without offence ; some thought themselves neg- 
lected ; some caught cold ; some sat too low 
at the supper table ; some could have sung 
after supper if they had been asked ; some 
were affronted because they were asked ; in 
short, take it altogether, though nobody would 
have been absent, none were entirely satisfied 
with being present, and my poor father and 
mother were answerable for every thing. 
Thinks- I-to -myself, — mighty sociable ! delight- 
ful neighbourhood I amiable people ! 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. Ti 

The next morning, when I was in my mo- 
ther's dressing room with my father and her- 
self, my father said, " Have you sent to inquire 
after Miss Mandeville ?" — Says-I-to-myself, 
" I'll go ;" — so I turned round abruptly to my 
mother, and, as much as could be, thought I 
was going to offer to go ; but a sudden over- 
whelming confusion came across me, and the 
words that really came out of my mouth were, 
" Shall I go and send Thomas ?" not one of 
the three last words having been in my micd 
before ; I had merely intended to intimate that 
I would go and inquire after her myself: — 
Thinks-I-to-myself^ such blunders as these canH 
be love ; — this must be peripneumony, or phre- 
niiisy and I had better take some more physic 
for it. 

Thomas was sent, and Thomas returned : — 
many thanks — Miss Mandeville was something 
better : something better. Thinks- I-to-my self, — 
why cannot I go and nurse her, and sit up 
with her night and day ! My father proposed a 
ride, and, when we had mounted our horses, he 
further proposed riding directly to Nicotium 
Castle, to know how they were after their fa- 
tigue : — I made no objection : — as we rode 
through the woods, in our approach to the Cas- 
tle, my father threw out a thousand hints that 
I very well understood, but beyond mere hints 
he did not venture to advance : — " It is the 
beauty of our constitution," says he, " Bob, 
that though there may be said to be in it a dis- 
tinct aristocracy and democracy, yet means 
are provided for the continual union and junc- 
tion of these two branches ; they are distinct 
in themselves, but yet, by a thousand circum- 



7a THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

stances, they g-et mingled and blended together, 
to thvj evident advantage of both ; as a com- 
mercial country, every branch of trade is so 
favoured, that the lowest person among us may 
by industry become as rich as the highest, 
and, by so doing, can raise his family to such 
a pitch of splendour and elegance, that they 
gradually and naturally slide into the stream of 
nobility ; virhile the nobility, who have no such 
rapid means of repairing the wear and tear of 
their estates, and who are never excused from 
keeping" up a certain degree of state and pa- 
rade, are willing enough to assist in the eleva- 
tion of their ric% inferiors ; and thus, as I said 
before, provision seems to be made, by the very 
circumstances of our excellent constitution, for 
the occasional melioration of both branches, 
and the junction of the two extremes." 

After this curious diatribe on our admirable 
constitution, we rode for some time vv^ithout ex- 
changing a word ; I knew what my father 
meant; Thinks- I-to-my self "War begets pover- 
ty, poverty peace ; peace makes riches flow, 
fate ne'er does cease ; war begets poverty, po- 
verty peace :" — tobacco is a bewitching drug ; 
the trade in tobacco, therefore, brings great 
riches ; riches naturally lead to great preten- 
sions ; therefore a tobacconist's grand-daugh- 
ter is fit for a Peeress, — or a Peer may be 
poor ; poverty may disable him from supporting 
his proper state and splendour ; — without state 
and splendour, he is no better than a tobacco- 
nist ; — let the poor Peer then but marry the 
proud tobacconist, and all is properly settled, — 
'- War begets poverty, poverty peace." 



THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 73 

As we approached the Castle, many remarks 
were made on the beauty of the situation, &c. 
&c., and some projects hinted as to the im- 
provements that might be made, if both estates 
were ever to come, by any accident, into the 
hands of one and the same individual. 

When we were shown up into the drawing- 
room, we found that none of the ball party had 
yet made their appearance ; — there was no- 
body to receive us but Miss Watson, the Go- 
verness ; — she was a very sensible, worthy 
woman, the daughter of a deceased Clergy- 
man ; we sat with her for some time, before 
Mrs. and Miss Twist came to us ; upon their 
entrance Miss Watson arose, and Mrs. Twist 
took her chair, Miss Twist at the same time 
seating herself without further ceremony: my 
father got up to set another chair for Miss 
Watson, but Mrs. Twist very considerately in- 
terfered, and, by a certain look and motion 
with her head, directed the poor humble Go- 
verness to retire. 

We did nut stay long, as they had their 
breakfast to take ; Mrs. Twist said she meant 
to drive to the Hall to inquire after my mother, 
whicJi we did not prevent ; but, after having 
received a thousand compliments about the ex- 
treme delight they had received at the ball, 
both from mother and daughter, took our leave. 

As we rode away from the Castle, my fatlier 
said all of a sudden, " Poor Mis? Watson !" 
Thinks- I-to-my self, " Why poor Miss Wat- 
son ?" we rode on : not a word till we got near 
a quarter of a mile further ; when my father 
could contain no longer, — '• Did yon hco. Bob,*' 
says he, " how Mrs. Twist sent Miss Watson 
7 



74 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

out of the room ? — Surely it is wrong to de- 
grade a Governess in that manner, in the eyes 
of her pupil ! the tutor of any young man of 
fortune or family may become Archbishop of 
Canterbury ; and why are the teachers of the 
other sex to be so kept down below par, as 
they generally are ? What can be meant by it ? 
Is not the mere having a Governess for their 
(laughters a tacit confession that the mothers 
themselves are not able to teach them ; and, if 
so, is it not an even chance, at least, that the 
Governess is far the most wise and deserving 
of the party ? as for the want of time, which is 
the excuse too generally made, time itself was 
intended only for such ends, and, therefore, so 
far from this being a fair excuse, it is the very 
excuse a mother ought not dare to make. 

" But," continues he, " if hirelings of that 
description must be employed, it should at least 
not be forgotten what sort of hirelings they 
are ; they are, in fact, hired Mothers; — Mo- 
thers substitutes, deputies, representatives, and, 
I fear, too often better mothers than the prin- 
cipals: I don't like such an appendage to a 
family in general, for where they are bad, they 
are the very worst of evils; but, if ive must 
have iheni, let us do them every justice they 
may deserve. Sucli are the changes, and 
chances, and revolutions of life, that it is often 
probable that a Governess may become de- 
pendent on a person naturally and originally 
far below her in the order of society, not to 
mention again tlie probability of far greater 
mental and intellcctiinl endowments : how 
grating must it be to such a person to be not 
only treated as dependent by such mothers, but 



THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 7:% 

as inferior to them! — I confess, I wish the 
worthy among these substitutes had but their 
fair chance of becoming Archbishops — and 
then they might have their revenge." 

My poor father, when any thing touched }iis 
feelings, spoke out freely ; — he forgot all his 
former hints and innuendoes upon such occa 
sions ; I saw plainly that in his heart he could 
not bear the Twists, in regard to some traits 
of their character. 

When we got home, we found that many 
persons had been there to inquire after my 
mother ; — every one^ without exception, telling 
her it was the pleasantest evening they ever 
spent. 

I am now coming to a remarkable period in 
my life, though I shall skip over most of the 
particulars. My father had long thought of 
sending me to a Scotch University : he much 
approved of Edinburgh, particularly, and he 
thought, as I was one day or other to be a 
Scotch Peer, it might be conducive to my in- 
terests to send me thither : of course, this 
greatly interrupted all the proceedmgs at Ni- 
cotium Castle and the Vicarage, and a long 
suspense ensued both of my hatred and my 
love. 

The day being fixed, I took leave of several 
of my neighbours, as I thought it became me, 
the Vicarage being the first and the ]ast place 
I went to for this purpose ; for, indeed, I could 
not help twice taking leave of tliat amiable and 
worthy family ; and I saw so juuch reason to 
be satisfied that my apj)roac]rmg absence was 
really a matter of regret to them all, that 1 can 
scarcely say, when i quitted them, whether 



'^t; TlilNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

my lieart was most heavy or most light ; it 
seemed weighed down with grief because 1 
was going from them, yet elevated to a pitch 
of extreme joy by the manner in which my de 
parture seemed to be felt. Thinks- I-to-myselj ^ 
as I quitted the door for the last time, — 

•' The benediction of these co%''ring beav'ns 

" Fall on Iheir heads like dew, for they are worthy 

" To in-lay Heaven with Stars !" 

Every thing having been duly prepared foir 
my journey, the day at last came for my leav- 
ing Grumblethorpe for a longer period than 
had ever been the case before. My mother 
and my sister were very much depressed upon 
the occasion, though they did all they could to 
conceal it ; and, as every *hing that they felt 
my father felt also, it was a dismal morning- 
altogether. There was much real and genuine 
grief indeed felt by us all, so that there was no 
room for the affectation of it. 

At Stamford I was to be joined by my old 
tutor, who had been absent from Grumblethorpe 
foi above a year and a half: he was to accom- 
pany me into Scotland : a trusty servant at- 
tended upon me, who was to wait upon us both 
during our sojournment at Edinburgh : — ^I need 
not describe the last parting ; those who have 
any feeling will know the precise circum- 
stances of it ; those that have none would not 
believe me if I described it ever so faithfully. 
The carriage at last drove from the gate, and 
I bestowed a secret valediction and blessing, 
as I passed, on every tree, and every path, and 
every gate and paling : the sheep, and the 
geese, and the turkies ; and, for tlie moment. 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 77 

could fairly have envied them all their dull 
privilege of staying- where they were. 

I need not carry the reader aloni^ with me 
from stage to stage, during my long journey ; 
suffice it to say, that at Stamford I met my 
worthy tutor, Mr. Ilargrave, and whom it was 
II great satisfaction to me to join ; ho proposed 
going westward into Scotland, and taking the 
lakes in our way, which would also give me an 
opportunity of seeing Glasgow, and other parts 
of Scotland, with ease, before I took up my 
abode at Edinburgh : from Stamford, therefore, 
we proceeded through Nottinghamshire and 
Derbyshire, entering Yorkshire at Sheffield : 
Mr. Hargrave was extremely careful to carry 
me to ail the manufactories that we passed 
upon our road, and I confess I was highly 
amused ; he took care that I should not observe 
these things in a careless, cursory manner ; he 
explained to me, before I saw any of them, the 
immense advantages to be gained by the divi- 
sion of labour, which made me take the greater 
interest in examining the gradual progress of 
the several productions of art which came in 
our way, from the first rude material to the 
utmost state of perfection in which it was sent 
out of the hands of the manufacturer ; he made 
me acquainted with the natural properties and 
qualities of the rude materials themselves, 
whether mineral or vegetable : he made me 
notice what manufactures were entirely de- 
pendent on the products of our own country, 
and what required the further aid and assist- 
ance of foreign and imported commodities : by 
these means I insensibly gained a knowledge 
of more than can easily be supposed, by any per- 
7* 



78 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

son who has not liad the advantage of such a 
companion in his travels : I became interested^ 
before I was aware of the ends he had in view, 
in the study of Minei-alogi/, Chemistry, Botany ; 
in tilings relating to the Trade, Manufactures, 
and Commerce of the state ; nay, of the whole 
world. 

Mr. Hargrave had a happy talent of placing 
every object that drew my attention in various 
and distinct points of view, so that I might 
learn from it all that could possibly be said up- 
on the subject The China at Derby, and the 
cutlery goods at Sheffield, led him equally 
to expatiate upon all the several branches of 
knowledge I have enumerated ; he would not 
only explain what different species of earths 
had been used in the several manufactures of 
China ware, but he would give me a general 
idea of the classification of minerals ; — show 
me what rank the earths held among them ; 
— how many different sorts had been discover- 
ed ; — what were their distinct natural proper- 
ties; — what the general effects of their mix- 
ture and combination : he would not only make 
me observe how they coloured the pieces, but 
he would explain how those colours were pre- 
pared ; — what were derived from, the mineral, 
and what from the vegetable kingdom ; — what 
were prepared at home ; — what foreign mate- 
rials entered into their composition. 

Not content with this, he would often give 
me the exact natural history of distinct mate- 
rials ; explain to me from what countries they 
came, how they were procured, what con- 
nexions we had with those countries, how the 
trade between us was conducted and carried 



TIIINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 7!) 

on ; —he would sometimes enter into the par- 
ticulars of the geographical and political cir- 
cumstances of those countries ; how situated ; 
— under what climate ; — how governed ; — and 
from hence, perhaps, take occasion to converse 
upon the different forms of governments that 
were known to subsist ; — he would tell me 
what other manufactures of the same Kind 
existed in other parts, foreign and domestic ; — 
the comparative estimation in which they were 
severally held ; — which were still in repute ; — 
which had fallen into decay : — he would remark 
upon the prices of labour, as regulated by the 
price of provisions, scarcity or abundance of 
hands ; — capital necessary for carrying on such 
works ; —whoiesomeness or unwholesomeness 
of different manufactures ; — nature of the com- 
plaints prodaced by them : — in short, it was 
perfectly incredible to what an extent he would 
carry his observations in order constantly to 
keep my mind awake to that marvellous con- 
catenation of circumstances by which all the 
several branches of knowledge might be said 
to bear upon one point ; a Derby tea cup was 
at any time sufficient to lead us far into Mine- 
ralogy, Botany, Chemistry, JVatural History, 
History, Trade, Commerce, Economics, Politics, 
Geography, JVavigation, and I know not what 
besides ; and, though this may appear to some 
rather a desultory mode of instruction, I am 
confident it had the effect of more thoroughly 
expanding my mind, and enabling it to com- 
prehend, at one view, a multiplicity of objects, 
not confusedly, but by a regular concatenation 
of particulars, and general association of ideas. 



80 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

From Sheffield we proceeded by Barnsley, 
Wakefield, Leeds, Ripon, into Westmoreland. 
In most of these towns the clothing business 
excited our attention, and engaged us in very 
different studies from those suggested to us by 
the China and Hardware manufactories, but 
still with equal advantage : all nature, animate 
and inanimate, seemed to be brought before 
me : — I could not put my foot to the ground 
any longer with the indifference I used to do : 
— every clod of earth, and every weed I trod 
upon, appeared to have some history belonging 
to it ; it £3emed scarcely credible that I could 
heretofore have passed so carelessly over ob- 
jects so replete with wonder, so curious, so 
useful, and of such infinite and inexhaustible 
varieties. 

From Ripon we visited Studley, Hackfall, 
and Fountain's Abbey. These were objects of 
a totally different nature, and yet Mr. Mar- 
grave found means to expatiate upon them as 
largely as he had treated of the manufactories. 
From our visit to Fountain's Abbey, I imbibed a 
taste for the stud}- of Antiquities ; — he made me 
acquainted with the different styles of Archi- 
tecture that had severally prevailed in various 
parts of the world ; — described to me, particu- 
larly, the different properties and supposed 
beauties of the Gothic, and gave me a circum- 
stantial account of its history ; he entered 
deeply, also, into the particulars of the Monas- 
tic institutions, to which we owe so many of 
our finest ruins, and from thence would take 
occasion 10 compare the manners of former 
tiroes with our own, observing, as he went 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 81 

along-, upon the superior advantages we en- 
joyed from the vast acquisition of knowledge 
since the reformation of Religion, the discove- 
ry of the art of Printing, the encouragement 
given to learning, and the great accumulation 
of valuable discoveries by means of experi- 
mental philosophy. 

Thus did we pass our tune till we arrived at 
the lakes, where my mind at first seemed to 
be fully absorbed in the beauties of the scenery. 
Nothing could exceed my delight and surprise 
UDon my first arrival at that most interesting 
part of the kingdom. Not content with skirt- 
ing the different lakes, or visiting select points, 
I ascended all the mountains, visited every 
precipice, viewed every cataract from above 
and below, explored every valley, landed upon 
every island ; I saw every lake under every 
circumstance that was possible, by day and by 
night, at sunset and at sunrise, at dawn and at 
twilight, in the serenity of calms and the turbu- 
lence of storms : — 1 was so struck and fasci- 
nated with the delicious scenery, so different 
from the' southern parts of England, that I 
could scarcely be brought to sleep a vi^hole 
night in my bed ; — often would I get up by 
moon-light, and repair to the edge of the lake, 
to observe the peculiar tints occasioned by the 
radiance of that luminary, or, if the wind blew 
strong, or the tliunder roared aloud, nothing 
could keep me in ray bed ; for, notwithstanding 
the insinuations of Mrs. Fidget, I am apt to 
hope, tnat the poor Clodpole "was no vulgar 
boy." His picture, I think, is well enough 
drawn in the followino- lines ; 



^?. THlNKS-r-TO-i>lYSELF. 

" 111 trutli he was a strange and wayward wight, 
Fond of each gentle, and'each dreadful scene: 
In darkness, and in storm, ht; found delight, 
Nor less than when on ocean-wave serene 
1'he southern sun ditfused his dazzling shene, 
K'en sad vicissitude ainus'd his soul ; 
And if a sigh would sometimes intervene, 
And down iiis cheek a tear of pity roll, 
A sigh; a tear, so sweet, he wisli'd not to control." 

For it mast not be supposed that I thought 
of nobody but myself in these romantic indul- 
gences ; continually did my thoughts hurry 
me back to the happy mansion of my beloved 
father : often did I wish my poor mother and 
sister could know how much amusement I had 
found on my journey ; often did a tender recol- 
lection of Emily Mandeville steal across me. 
and give a check to the transports of my soul . 
often have I thought as I ga*zed upon the moon, 
that she must be, probably, shining, in like 
manner, on those so dear to me at a distance, 
and that, perhaps, even the eyes of some ot 
them might be fixed on her at that very moment. 
As often as these ideas came across me, my old 
complaint returned ; my heart beat quicker, 
my breast heaved, till a sigh, or a tear, or a 
succession of both, came to my relief. 

Mr. Hargrave, seeing the delight I took in 
the peculiar nature of the scenery of these 
parts, indulged me with a longer stay there 
than he had at first intended ; he was himself, 
indeed, little loss interested than I was, and 
would frequently visit the lakes at untimely 
hours. In one of our night excursions, we 
passed many hours in a boat near one of the 
islands (I think they call it the HermiVs island) 
in Keswick Laht : the nififht was calm and se- 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. S3 

rene ;- the moon shone beautifully, — reflected 
from the surface of the lake in a long, gflitter- 
ing- stream of light — gently agitated through 
its entire length by the undulations of a most 
refreshing and delightful breeze : the fall of 
Lowdore was to be heard at a distance, dashing 
down its rugged channel. At the extremity 
of the boat we had placed a small cannon, 
which in the very depth of night, we ordered 
to be discharged, that we might enjoy, in full 
perfection, the reverberation of the sound from 
the surrounding rocks and mountains. The 
effect was exceedingly striking and grand, 
varied, probably, by the different features of the 
several objects from which the sound was re- 
turned upon our ears : first, perhaps, in an 
abrupt and sudden crash ; then in a long and 
distant murmur ; then in a loud roar as it were 
nearer to us ; — as it was successively re- 
echoed froui the different mountains, we could 
regularly count seven distinct thunder strokes, 
as produced by each discharge : the dee}» 
shadow cast by Skiddaw over a part of the 
scenery to the north-east, added much to the 
beauty of the landscape. 

The time at length came, however, for our 
quitting this delicious spot, much to my regret 
and concern. The reader will easily gues^ 
how much mental soliloquy I had occasion to 
indulge, as I passed over these charming 
scenes. How often I must Imve Thought-to- 
myself, that, in this island, or this va iley, or on 
this side, or at the foot of this or that mountain, 
or at the point of this or that promontory, hid 
forever from the world by the deep shade of 
plantains or of sycamores, T could delight to 



84 THLNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

pass the rest of my life with the innocent, nn- 
assuming Emily : — the reader will eisily guess 
how many romantic spots I fixed upon for this 
purpose ; how frequently I exulted in the 
thought of boldly preferring such a retirement 
(if any obstacles to our union should occur) to 
all the glare, and glitter, and false pride, of 
Nicotium Castle ; but it was time for us to go. 
I believe Mr. Hargrave himself began to sus- 
pect that, if I staid much longer, I should 
inevitably become either a fool or a poet ; so 
at last he rather hurried me away. 

We took our leaves of the lakes at UUswa- 
ter, proceeding by Penrith to Carlisle, and 
from thence by the celebrated Grelna Green 
to Glasifow : we stopped of course to visit the 
falls of the Clyde in our way, and were highly 
delighted with them ; — many people, we were 
told, were curious to see the officiating minis- 
ter of the Gretna Chapel, but we passed on 
without this gratification. I questioned Mr. 
Margrave about him, but he cut me short by 
saying, " We are all upon a par, in regard to 
thai ceremony ; — probably, in the course of the 
year, he does just as much good as harm, and 
just as much harm as good ; which, for what I 
know, is the case with us ail; licit or illicit, 
equal or unequal, public or private, given or 
stolen, find me the mhasler that can make all 
couples happy, and I will go far out of my way 
to see him." Thinks- I-to-myself, — my tutor is 
probably right. 

In our way through Moffat^ we were much 
entertained by the arrival of a large drove of 
cattle, late in the evening, attended by many 
drovers with their bag-pipes. This unexpcct 



THliNKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 85 

ed iiitiux of national music seemed to raise the 
spirits of the inhabitants : many parties assem- 
bled to dance to the sound of these strange but 
favourite mstruments, and more than half of the 
night was expended before the sound of them 
ceased to disturb our rest : — though disturbed, 
however, the novelty and nationality of it in- 
clined us freely to forgive them. In conse- 
quence of some letters Mr. Hargrave received 
at Moffat, and owing to our long stay at the 
lakes, we were obliged to hurry through Glas- 
gow, and make the best of our way to Edin 
burgh, where we arrived safely after rather a 
long but pleitsant journey. 

It is particularly ray design to pass over al- 
most every thing that occurred during our resi- 
dence here, as not necessary to the history 1 
have undertaken. We received great civilities 
from many eminent persons and distinguished 
families in and out of Edinburgh, my letters of 
introduction being many, and my connexions 
well known. We travelled further into Scot- 
land as opj)ortunity occurred, and the vacations 
admitted. We visited Aberdeen, and some of 
the northern lakes : — the Highlands also, some 
of the Western Isles, and particularly Staffa, 
with whicli I was delighted, as so extraordina- 
ry and grand a specimen of that singular na- 
tural production, the basaltic pillar. — None of 
these things do I attempt to describe here ; — 
it is necessary just to touch upon them, because. 
Thinks- J-to-myself, how shall I otherwise get 
the reader to consent to skip over two years of 
my life. 

In the correspondence that passed between 
my familv and myself, during my residence at 
8^ 



86 THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

Eidmburg-h, I heard not mucli of the neighbour- 
hoou of Gruinblethorpe. The first letter I had 
from my sister announced the death of Mrs. 
Creepmouse, with all the particulars of her 
last paralytic seizure, where she was to be 
buried. &c. Thinks-I-to-myself, — vastly inter- 
esting indeed ! I looked in vain for any thing 
about the MandeviUes, except as far as they 
were included in the following comprehensive 
clause, — " All the neighbours are very anxious 
in their inquiries after you." — I was wicked 
enough to fancy an erratum ought to have 
been added, namely, for " are,^^ read " appear f 
for that Mrs. Fidget, for instance, or the Miss 
Fidgets, had really made any very anxious in- 
quiries after me, (the idiot^ the Clodpole, the 
half-starved chimney-sweeper,) was, I confess, a 
matter of much doubt. Thinks- I-to-myself, my 
dear sisier knows little of the world, or she 
would have written appear at once. I learned 
that Miss Twist frequently called there in her 
rides, and had paid two long visits, since T 
came away. " I believe," says my sister, in 
her letter, " you are rather a favourite, for she 
is continually singing, ' iVhen Delia on the 
vlain appears,'' since I told her it was an air of 
which you were particularly fond." The second 
letter I had did, however, mention the Mande- 
villes : — " You will be sorry to hear," says my 
mother, "that your old acquaintance, Emily 
Mandeville, has been long ill ; — her complaini 
is thought to be nervous ; poor Mrs. Mande- 
ville is in much care about her : — the rest are 
all pretty well." 

Now, in what manner I shall be expected by 
the reader to have borne this shock, I am not 



THiNKS-T-TO-MYSELF. 87 

able to say : for I shall (no doubt) have a vast 
number of different sorts of readers : — some 
very sensible souls, perhaps, will think I swoon- 
ed away immediately ; — some, that I fell back 
lifeless, with my eyes fixed, and my mouth 
wide open ; — some, that I fell a sighing ; and 
some, that I fell a crying ; — some, that I turned 
sick ; some, that I opened the window, and was 
going to precipitate myself from it immediate- 
ly, but was prevented ; — [N. B. One of the back 
windows, in the old toivn of Edinburgh^ fifteen 
stories high-] — some, perhaps, will fancy I or- 
dered a chaise directly, or a horse, or took a 
place in the mail coach : they would be all 
mistaken ; for I only know that / put the letter 
m my pocket, and, as breakfast was waiting 
for me, I went directly to Mr. Hargrave : — he 
said, " You have a letter from Grumblethorpe, 
how do they all do ?" — " Quite well," says I, 
"and desire to be remembered to you." As 
Mr. H. had the neM'spaper to read, I had no 
occasion to talk ; but I saw him every now and 
then look very hard at me, and I concluded I 
had, in a fit of absence, done something 
strange ; I determined, therefore, to be more 
attentive ; but no attention would do ; for, all 
of a sudden, poor Mr. Hargrave jumped up, 
two yards, I believe, from the ground. — 
" Zounds I" says he, "• Mr. Dermont, what is 
all this ?" Poor man ! he had great reason to 
complain ; for, in filling the tea-pot, I had to- 
tally forgotten to turn back the cock of the 
urn, and, there being an unfortunate breach on 
the side of the parapet of the tea-board, the 
overflowings of the hot water found vent there, 
descending regularly, but 'Cery rapidly, in a 



83 THLNKS-1-TO-MYSELF 

grand parabola, directly upon his breeches be- 
low ; lackily, the scalding quality of the water 
was somewhat abated, as the breakfast was 
nearly over ; but it was quite hot enough fully 
to justify the extraordinary 'altitude of the jump 
he took from his seat, as well as the horrible 
word that issued from his reverend mouth , 
had it been a little hotter, or had it happened 
a little sooner, it would have killed him. As 
it was, the sop he was in, and the fright he had 
suffered, justly deserved to be classed among 
the miseries of the tea-table. 

Now, if any body should be at all disposed 
to fancy that this accident was connected with 
the passage in my mother's letter, they are 
welcome to think so : — I found afterwards from 
Mr. Hargrave, that he had judged me to be 
going mad before, for that I had twice, as near 
as could be, when my cup was empty, made his 
cup my slop-basin, and successively bit one 
great mouthful out of six pieces of toast, with- 
out once eating the remainder, which, of course, 
lay littered about the table. 

Before I had quite recollected myself, I re- 
tired again to my chamber, telling Mr. Har- 
grave I must answer my letter by return 
of the post ; he said, if that v^as the case, he 
should walk to Leith ; so that 1 got all the 
morning to myself: I took my pen and imme- 
diately began,—" My dear Mother ,•" after look- 
ing at these three parts of speech for a quar- 
ter of an hour, I took another sheet, and be- 
gan, — " My dear Sister,'^ and then I looked at 
these three words, as I had done at the other, 
for a second quarter of an hour : at last I took 
a third sheet, and began,— "Jlfi/ dear Father:^ 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 80 

— Tkinks-I-to-myself, if I tell hiyn all about it, 
perhaps I shall get leave to write to Emily 
herself; but I kept looking at these three words 
longer than ever, without being able to stir a 
step further: then I thought, what if I baldly 
write to the dear girl herself at once, in verse I 
tender verse ! Who knows but it may recover 
her, if she jnnesfor my absence, which, I could 
not help fancying, or forbear hoping, was the 
exact cause of her malady : 1 took therefore a 
longer sheet of paper, what they call foolscap : 
— Thinks- f-to-mystlf afterwards, a mighty 
proper name ! I had always a knack at writing 
verses from a child, but now my Muse seemed 
to be most desperately unkind : I walked up 
and down the room, I verily thmk, for two 
hours together, at the very least ; and, as the 
reader periiaps might wish to see a specimen 
of the fruits of my proliiic brain at the end of 
these two hours, "he or she shall have a correct 
copy of the whole : — 

Emi/ij 
O injured Fair uue 

Idol Heart 

liOvely Amelia Aiig"^! of my soul; 

soul ! mij heavenly 
Pride of my heart Angelic fair one, say, 

loads anguish beating 

vvhai Jieaps of sorrow swell my throbbing 

heaii, ! 
Come, heavenly Muse ! — soul ! 

Tell me ye Gods', what suffering- Angel 

This is a faithful draft of the fond effusion 
of my overflowing hoart, in which my readers 
may (if they study it close) discern, that, in the 
whole two hours, I had not accomplished any 
thing like a beginning. I had invented, by 
8* 



00 THLNKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

much straining, about ten different apostrophes 
to stand at the head of ray epistle ; but not 
one would do. 

Luckily for me, before I had quite and entirely 
lost my wits, Mr. H., driven back by bad wea- 
ther, returned to the lodgings, and, coming up 
to my room, begged of me, if I had not sealed 
my letter, to tell my mother that he had pro- 
cured for my sister the music she wished to 
have, and would send it by the first opportuni- 
ty : this gave my mind relief directly ; I sat 
down, and began another letter, as before— 
" My dear mother," and scribbled on without 
once stopping till I got to the end of the paper : 
all the obstacles were overcome the moment 
Mr. H. gave me something for a beginning, 
and I very fairly inserted in my letter the fol- 
lowing clause, in plain, sensible, unsophisti- 
cated language : " I am extremely sorry tc 
hear Miss Mandeville is so unwell ; pray, when 
you write next, mention how she is." I was 
quite astonished to see with what ease 1 wrote 
it, and by how much the best way it appeared 
of expressing my anxiety. It seemed quite to 
revive ray heart, and I joined Mr. Hargrave, 
after finishing ray letter, with my spirits quite 
exhilarated. I kept the daubed sheet of fools- 
cap, thinking, if ever I saw poor Emily again, I 
would certainly give it her, as a proof of the 
folly and madness of my passion for her. 

It was nearly three weeks frora this time be- 
fore I heard again from Grumblethorpe. At 
length came a long letter frora ray mother^ which 
I opened wide, and turned and twisted abr at, but 
without seeing the name I wanted. I read it ; 
it contained thanks to Mr. H. — a long account 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSEl.F. 91 

of a concert at the Twists', at which viy com- 
pany was mnch desired ; many directions to 
take care of myself, and to remember that the 
North was bleaker than the South. My hopes 
seemed to be at an end ; I felt like a person 
listening to the reading of a will, by which he 
had expected to have inherited a large fortune, 
but wiuhout hearing so much as his name men- 
tioned : at length, just as I was going to put it 
in my pocket, I spied something written on 
each side of the vacancy that had been left for 
the seal. It was just as though my fortune 
was at last made, by the discovery and opera- 
tion of a twentieth codicil ; for lo ! and behold, 
there it was, written in small characters, in- 
deed, but delightfully legible : " I had almost 
forgotten to tell you, that your old playfellow, 
Emily Mandeville, is thought to be better. 1 
read to her the part of your letter in which 
you inquired after her, and she desired me to 
say you were very good to think of her at so 
great a distance." Thinks- I-to-miisdf, dis- 
tance indeed ! I kissed the letter over and over 
again ; put it in my pocket, and took it out 
again ; opened it, read it, put it up again : 
opened it agam and read it; opened my waist- 
coat, and laid it upon my heart while it was 
bumping, and at night I slept with it under 
my pillow.. Now every thing had become 
easy to me. I had only to pray that she 
might not get well: as long as she continued 
ill, I found I could ask after her, express my 
concern for her, get my letters read to her, 
and even receive messages from her in return. 
I was now as happy as a lark, and, had I had 
wings, could have soared as high in the sun- 



92 THI]\KS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

shine, whistling and singing all the way up to 
Heaven ; my thoughts were so full of my old 
playfellow, (as my mother called her,) that it 
was a great mercy I did not do Mr. Hargrave 
some serious mischief, either by scalding him 
to death at breakfast, cutting off his head with 
the carving knife at dinner, or burning him in 
his bed at night, by sitting up to read my mo- 
ther's postscript over and over again. 

Luckily, he did all he could to cool my pas- 
sion ; for, though it was in the depth of winter, 
he chose the very next day to set off upon an 
excursion to Aberdeen : on one day of our jour- 
ney we were overtaken by a dismal fall of 
snow : as Mr. H. was not very well, he stopped 
at a house we came to, just as it began, while 
I went forward to the inn ; he told me he 
would follow n)e when it ceased, but that, if it 
continued, he would join me the next day. 

I rode on, and at length was compelled to 
stop at a most dreary inn, (if inn it could be 
called,) just on the skirts of a wide heath, 
which I did not dare to pass, as the road was 
totally obliterated. I therefore dismounted, 
and, being blessed with money enough to com- 
mand all the accommodations the house could 
supply, I got a roaring fire, and plenty of eggs 
and bacon, &lc. for my early dinner : but 1 con- 
fess, when I saw the snow continue to fall, and 
reflected that I was separated from my compa- 
nion, and had nothing to amuse me and engage 
my attention but the dismal expanse of heath 
before my window, my spirits began to flag ; I 
begged a book to read ; but, what was rather 
surprising in Scotland, they had but one in the 
house, and that had been left there by a trave.- 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 93 

ier ; I greedily cauglit at it when it arr^ed ; 
but, alas ! it was but of small comfort : — 1 won- 
der what the reader would guess it to be ; per- 
haps a volume of Shakspeare, or Ossian ; per- 
haps Chevy- Chace, or the Battle of Floddcn 
Field, or Marmion ! No, none of these, I can 
assure him. Perhaps the Spectator or Guar- 
dian, or the History of Mary, Qiicen of Scots ; — 
no, none of these, but a plain and unadorned 
edition of the London Directory ! ! in which the 
exits and entrances of all the coaches and 
waggons out of and into the metropolis in the 
course and compass of every week, with every 
inn they put up at and depart from, were most 
charmingly registered, and all the information 
communicated that could be given upon topics 
so highly interesting I 

My despair was now complete. Thinks- I-to- 
myself I shall certainly die of the vapours. I 
sat at the window till my heart quite ached. I 
had, not long before, been reading Burns^ Win- 
ter Night, nox was it possible to forget Thom- 
son's beautiful but dismal description of the 
poor lost cottager. Thinks- I-to-my self, as I 
cast my eyes over the heath, jus^ what follows 
which you may call a poem if you please. If i* 
had fourteen lines, it perhaps might pass for a 
Sonnet : how it came into any shape but that ol 
a soliloquy, I should be puzzled to tell you. 

THE SNOW-STORM. 



Stay thy forebodings, busy, busy Mind ! 

Wiiy need'sl thou feel the biUer blasts that blow ? 
Why need'st tJwu shudder at the Winter's wind, 

The petrifying frost, and driving- snow ? 



•)4 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

Do not for thee reviving' embers g-low ? 

Is not for thee the leady table spread ? 
Ooes not for thee the horn of plenty floAv ? 

Thou art no beggar oi th}' daily bread ' 

II. 

t'et thou sitt'st trembling o'er thy brooding thought, 

As if thou w^ert unsheller'd and forlorn ; 
^Jhudd'ring at scenes of wo, aW fancij -wrought ; 
Some sTdv'nng soul to luckless fortune born, 
From weeping wife, and famish'd children torn, 
'Wilder'd and lost in trackless depths of snow ! 
\t such self-painted prospects must thou mourn ? 
Must the sigh heave, and tear of sorrow flow ? 

111. 

It is, perhaps, full human so to do, 

For what were life if pity look her flight t 
It is full well to feel for otliers' wo, 

Yet let ihy faith persuade ihee " all is right!" 
The wretch that sinks may rise from his dark night 

To brighter scenes of bliss that shall not cease j 
Meet his fond friend in realms of endless light, 
Perpetual sunshine, and perpetual peace ! 

I think they are tolerably pretty and pathetic 
for a clodpole ; — but of this you may be wel) 
assured, gentle reader, that you will not find 
one fault in them, of which I am not myself 
aware ; only I leave them to your civility and 
feeling, rather than stop to mend them, as they 
were written so long ago. 

The next day Mr. Kargrave joined me ; if I 
were to tell you what happened to him at the 
place he put up at, it would make both your 
ears to tingle, and you would certainly split 
your sides with laughing ; but you see I have^ 
got to go to Aberdeen to-night, if possible, and* 
so csnnot stop to tell it you ; none of you can 
expect that I should, who Jcnows how precious 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 9r> 

a thing time is : we made the best of our way 
to Aberdeen, after we had got together again, 
though at no small risk of being lost from the 
drifting of the snow. 

Mr. Hargrave was well known to one of the 
professors at Aberdeen, who received us most 
civilly. We staid there b^ut a very short time. 
While we were there, Mr. H. intimated, that 
the journey was undertaken solely on my fa- 
ther's account and mine ; though he would not 
explain himself farther, I learned the whole 
history of it afterwards : nothing very particu- 
lar occurred at Aberdeen, (the acoount of the 
place itself may be found elsewhere,) nor upon 
our return to Edinburgh. When I got back 
to the latter place, I found another letter from 
Grumblethorpe, written very soon after the 
former : all it said of Miss Mandeville was, 
" they are all well at the Vicarage ; Emily 
gets better daily." 

I know not whether the reader will have 
taken any pains to calculate how long I have 
been at Edinburgh. 1 have looked a little over 
the foregoing pages to see if I could make out, 
but, I must confess, it seems to me to be rather 
a mystery : I wish it to be so, and that's the 
truth ; because, as I know I shall be made re- 
sponsible for all these things, if my book falls 
into the hands of any of those catch-poles, the 
Reviewers, I wish to do things decently at 
least, and not fall into any violent anachronism 
or breach of consistency. 

I want to have been at Edinburgh two years 
and to be supposed to have studied hard, ar\i 
to have become a proficient in Mathematics, Ju- 
risprudence,, Chemisti-y, Anatomy, JVosologij, 



06 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

Botany, &c., and 1 am not sure that I have 
taken quite time enough for all this : it seems 
somewhat strange to me, but it looks, I must 
confess, as if I had not received above three or 
four letters from home during the whole two 
years, which would be preposterous ; however, 
upon examining the bundle I have got, I find 
that this is a mere deception. In ^ct, I re- 
ceived many from my sister and father, that I 
have not mentioned. I have merely noticed 
those that had any thing in them concerning 
ray dear, dear, dear, dea, de, d, r r r r r r 
Emily ! ! ! ! 

The time came, in short, (for time will come, 
whether we will or no,) for our return into the 
south of Britain. Mr. Hargrave began to call 
in his accounts, and I saw plainly that we were 
beginning to depart: we had large packages 
to send away of fossils and other natural curi- 
osities, for the whole of Scotland abounds in 
such tilings, and we had meddled with them 
pretty much. They were not mere baubles, or 
cabinet specimens, that we sent home ; we had 
collected abundance of things illustrative of 
different theories of the earth. We were 
neither of us disposed to become Huttonians, 
and that is all I wish to say upon that subject 
at present. 

On. the eighteenth of March, one thousand 
seven hundred and bla.^k, (for I don't wish to 
let you too deeply into the secret,) we took our 
leave of Edinburgh. Journeying home east- 
ward, as we had entered it westerly, wo stop- 
ped at Dunbar to see the BaSvaltic Columns 
there, which are certainly extremely curious. 
We passed one day at " our town of Berwick 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 97 

on Tweed," as the Briefs say. We visited 
the Holy Island also, (but heard no tolling of 
the midnight bell,)" and proceeded on to New- 
castle, after visiting Alnwick Castle, the seat 
of his Grace of Northumberland : — the figures 
upon the top of the Castle, in the act, as it 
were, of sustaining a siege, amused me much ; 
— perhaps they are all removed or decayed be- 
fore this. 

At Newcastle we visited the collieries, and 
descended in their mine-buckets, (or baskets 
rather.) We stopped a whole day at Durham: 
— I believe Mr. Ilargrave wished to examine 
into the circumstances of that great prize in 
the Ecclesiastical Lottery ; not with any ex- 
pectation of it, for, though no man could be 
more worthy of it, yet, undoubtedly, no man 
could be less covetous or ambitious, but by way 
of seeing what he might have attained to in his 
profession, had he been less worthy, or more 
covetous, or more ambitious : JVota Bene, how- 
ever, that, just as I am writing this, that See 
happens to be in the hands of a most munifi- 
cent Prelate, and I wish it may never be in 
worse hands ; for. Thinks- I-to-my self, 

" He that does g-ood with his money and pelf 
Is a lielp to his neighbour cis well as himself." 

From Durham, we went regularly on upon 
the great London road. Mr. Hargrave had 
promised to see me safe home, otherwise we 
should have parted in Lincolnshire, where we 
first met. 

As I got nearer and nearer to Grumble- 
thorpe, I will leave any one to guess how my 
heart felt. It did not bump for Emily Mande- 
9 



98 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

ville only, it humped for my excellent father, 
my aear and invaluable mother, and for my 
sister, whom I loved like myself. Mr. Har- 
grave himself felt delighted at the thoughts of 
seeing Grumblethorpe again, for nothing, I be- 
lieve, could possibly exceed his regard, respect 
and veneration for my father and mother. 

The driver, whom we took from the last 
stage, had never been at Grumblethorpe Hall 
before, so that, instead of going straight, as he 
should have done, to the end of the avenue, he 
managed to make for an entrance of the park, 
which inevitably carried us past the Vicarage, 
by a road seldom travelled. The novelty of a 
carriage coming that way naturally drew all 
the family to the window, and I had the plea- 
sure of beholding the whole group, as I sup- 
posed, for I could not quite distinguish them : 
I would have given the world to have got out, 
but I felt it to be little less than sacrilege to 
deprive my good father, and mother, and sister, 
of the Jtrst greetings : I therefore contented 
rayself'with only kissing my hand over and 
over again to them, and passed on. We at 
length drove up to the very steps of the Hall ; 
immediately the doors flew open, and there 
stood my father, mother, sister, and many old 
servants, ready to receive us. I ran into their 
arms, and was for some time quite overcome 
with the affectionate and sincere caresses 1 re- 
ceived. 

Mr. Hargrave demanded much of their at- 
tention, and helped, of course, to disembarrass 
matters : — in short, we were at last safely land- 
ed at the Hall again ; — the trees I had wished 
good bye to stood where they did ; — the posts 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELP 00 

and the palings also ; — but probably all the 
geese and turkeys that I had envied so much, 
as I parted from them two years before, had been 
killed and eaten, so that, upon the whole, I was 
by far the best off after all ; all envy, probably, 
is of the same nature, and equally illfounded. 

We had, of course, a long list of inquiries to 
answer, nor had I a few to make. I found that 
the neighbourhood in general remained as it 
was, only that Mrs. Creepmouse was dead, as 
I have mentioned, and Miss Fidget had gone 
off with the footman : the lovely, fine, puny, 
sickly, troublesome boy was gone to school, 
and Miss Charleville, with whom I partly fell 
in love, as I have described, was married to 
the Earl of Fitz-Arlington. 

The next morning, many messages of inquiry 
were sent to know how Mr. Robert Dermont 
did, &.C., and the next morning to that, I had 
the honour of receiving many visits ; for now I 
was no longer regarded as a boy. I was the 
heir apparent to the Hall, come to years of 
tolerable discretion : perhaps the reader will 
wonder whether I have been to the Vicarage 
yet ; actually not ! I was close to it, and I felt 
that to be almost enough ; sooner than precipi- 
tate matters, I chose to stay away. I even 
visited Nicotium Castle first ; if any body takes 
this for indifference, they are fools. I say it 
without scruple. They know nothing of the 
strange inconsisttncies and mysteries of love. 
They were all extremely glad to see me at 
Nicotium Castle, but to say they were highly 
delighted might exceed the truth : Miss Twist 
bestowed upon me nothing warmer than a few 
bob courtesies, and Mrs. Twist was more for- 

i.0fc. 



100 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

mal than familiar : neveriholess, I saw plainly, 
with only half an eye, as the saying is, that 
Nicotium Castle was mine if I chose to ask 
for it. 

After visiting Nicotium Castle, my father 
himself proposed going to the Vicarage : he 
little thought what was the state of my poor 
heart. We rode there, therefore, and found 
them all at home, except Mr. Mandeville : 
Emily, I thought, looked shockingly ; but she 
seemed heartily glad to see me, only ashamed 
to show it; we behaved to each other as shyly 
as possible ; we just shook hands, and that was 
all. I said I was glad to see her better ; Mrs. 
Mandeville observed, that she had been very 
ill indeed ; and, had I spoken my mind honest- 
ly, I ought to have said, that I was very glad 
of it, for so 1 really was on many accounts ; 
had she continued in rude health and high 
spirits all the while I had been absent, my love 
probably might have abated; but, as it was, 
I felt more than ever attached to her ; because 
she had been ill, and because she looked ill 
What a monstrous strange complaint love is ! 

Miss Twist had been as well as possible all 
the while ; I don't think she had even a cold 
or a cough, nor had her spirits once changed ; 
she had talked about me, I believe, and sung 
Delia, and thought often, probably, about my 
Coronet ; but, had any news arrived of "ihe 
Coronet's having flown away, I very much 
question whether Delia would ever have been 
sung again ; however, I must not be too severe, 
for I verily believe, had Nicotium Castle flown 
away, or Miss Grizilda been disinherited, my 
good father would have thought nothing about 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 101 

her , she was certainly not altogether a fa- 
vourite. 

Mr. Hargrave surprised me very mjch, one 
morning, by letting me into a secret, of vi^hich 
I had before no suspicion at all, namely, that, 
in my absence, my sister Caroline had had an 
offer from Capt. Charleville, and that it was 
likely to become a match. I was heartily re- 
joiced at this news, because the family was 
truly amiable, and I was very certain that my 
sister was not likely to have fallen in love mere- 
ly with his Peerage and Coronet, which I too 
justly suspected to be the case with Miss Twist. 

My father and Mr. Hargrave, of course, 
passed much of their time together, and I sup- 
pose my future fortunes and destinies occupied 
much, if not most, of their attention. I ma- 
naged as 1 could to visit the Vicarage, which 
was seldom ; nor (had I had ever so good an 
opportunity) did I feel sufficiently at liberty to 
avow my attachment openly. I certainly often 
looked and sighed, and sighed and looked, in a 
way that mast have excited great suspicions ; 
and I am doubtful whether I was always suffi- 
ciently careful to avoid pressing her hand, and 
saying what some people call '•'■ soft things''' to 
her. 

In the mean time, the communications with 
Nicotium Castle were frequent ; they were con- 
tinually coining to us, and we going to them; 
in all our evening amusements. Miss Tvv'ist 
and myself seemed, by some fatal circumstance 
or other, to be brought together; if we played 
at cards, we were always placed next to each 
other; if we danced, she was to be my part- 
ner ; if there was music, she sung Delia ; and 
9* 



102 TFIINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

He that " would approach, hut dare not move" 
was sure to be me : if we played at forfeits, 
we were doomed to go behind the curtain to- 
gether, and if we played at consequences, we 
were sure to meet in a wood, and the end was 
kissing. All these things produced remarks, 
and insinuations, and suspicions, and reports, 
and expectations, so that, I doubt not, many 
thought the ring was bought, and a special 
license sent for, and Nicotium Castle thorough- 
ly settled upon me and my heirs ; whereas 
never had my consent been in any manner 
whatsoever thought of: they were all reckon- 
ing without their host. 

But one day, contrary to all my expectations, 
[ was put into a considerable fright ; for who 
should attack me but my dear friend, Mr. Har- 
grave. As we were walking together, one 
day, towards the memorable Tiuist stile, he be- 
gan upon the subject : says he, " How happy am 
I to think that your sister is likely to marry so 
well ! what a comfort will it be to your worthy 
father and mother to see her not only so well 
settled, but united to so near and so respectable 
a neighbour I, the marriage of a daughter is a 
matter of extreme anxiety : what then must be 
the marriage and settlement of an only son, 
heir to the whole paternal inheritance ? Upon 
your choice, in this particular, my dear young 
friend, must depend far more than your own 
happiness, — ^the honour and happiness of those 
now alive, and, by reflection, the honour at 
least of that long list of progenitors, from 
whom you are likely to inherit title and digni- 
ty : in your choice, one thing seems chiefly to 
be considered to degrade yourself by a con- 



THINKS-1-iO-MYSELF. 103 

nexion in every way below you would be base 
indeed ; to be particular about family seems 
unnecessary ; your own being already suffi- 
ciently conspicuous ; fortune then is the thing 
that seems most to be attended to ; riches tend 
to break down many distinctions, and why 
should the great be backward to assist in en- 
nobling those who may be willing to enrich 
them ?" I surely thought the whole business 
was coming out, and at this moment, I dare 
say, the reader expects the same, — but no such 
thing : he soon after ended his discourse by 
saying, " Therefore, my good friend, when you 
begin to look out for a wife, think of these 
things." 

" My dear sir," says I, taking up the con- 
versation, " suffer me to make one remark : — 
if every man was to be supposed to be equally 
at liberty deliberately to look out, as you call 
it, for that accommodation called a wife, I might 
promise to obey your injunctions ; but I have 
heard that some people can pop upon a wife 
before they are aware of it, without any " look- 
ing ouf at all : — that some people have been 
known to marry for neither honour nor riches, 
and to be unable to do otherwise, spite of their 
teeth : — -you seem to me, my dear sir, to have 
proposed but two cases to my consideration ; 
first, to look out for a wife when necessary, and, 
next, to make such a choice as may help to 
enrich myself, while I ennoble my elect : — now 
what am I to do, if 1 find a wife without look- 
ing out for one, and she should happen to be 
poor, — is it quite forbidden me to take a wife 
that I find by accident, be she never so good, 
oi if I feel disposed to it, to ennoble the unen- 



104 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

dowed ? — I am not talking of persons in every 
way below me, which to marry, as you say, 
would be base indeed, — but what am I to do, 
if, while I am ' looking ouV with all my eyes 
for a rich heiress of loiv degree to raise and en- 
noble, the twentieth child of some poor gentle- 
man should come in my way, endowed with 
every virtue under the sun ?" Mr. Hargrave 
had no idea that I meant any thing serious, J 
believe, so that he only laughed at my method 
of parrying his attack. — We soon after return- 
ed to the Hall, where the Twists were engaged 
to dine with us, in a snug sort of way. 

They came a little before five. I had, as 
usual, to sit next to Miss Twist, and to bear, as 
well as I could, many jokes, hints, insinuations, 
&c., as well as many plain advances, on the part 
of the young lady, not at all in the way of love 
and regard, but of affectation and vanity, as 
though presuming upon the irresistibility of 
ner three hundred thousand charms. 

Unfortunately, (that is, I mean, for three such 
terrible noodles as my father, Mr. Hargrave* 
and myself, who were no amateurs of the art 
of boxing,) just as the ladies had retired, my 
father happened to ask Mr. Twist what had 
carried him to London in such extreme haste 
five days ago : for, as we were going to 
church on the preceding Sunday, he had pass- 
ed us in his chaise and four, as if he had been 
on an errand of life and death :— " O," says he, 
" I went to be present at the famous match be- 
tween Bob Gubbins and Big Beelzebub, — 1 had 

a bet with Lord of seven to four upon 

Bob. It v/as a tight battle, I assure you : — Bob 
had the best of it for seventeen rounds at the 



THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 105 

least, and would certainly have bet, only Big 
Beelzebub happened to put in such a confound- 
ed hit under his left jaw, just as he was re- 
turning- to the eighteenth rally, that knocked 
him over and over ; and I verily thought that 
all the sport would be at an end, and that he 
must have died on the spot : it was noble spar- 
ring till then ; I never saw Bob fight better : 
Big Beelzebub, at one time, bled at every chan- 
nel, — nose, mouth, eyes, ears, neck, shoulder, 
back, breast ; it would have done your heart 
good to have seen it." 

Thinks- I-to-my self, my father's hearty in- 
deed ! 

" The first round," continued Mr. Twist, 
•' both sparred with great caution ; Bob began 
with a neat right-handed hit, which being 
smartly returned, they fell to ; Bob seemed to 
give way at first, but in a short time rallied, 
and threw such a devil of a parcel of straight 
blows into Beelzebub's throat and breast, that 
his mouth burst out with blood, and down he 
fell ; so that, to ray great joy, the first blood 
and first fall were both completely in Bob's 
favour : — Big Beelzebub rose weak and sickish ; 
— Bob threw several blows away by round hit- 
ting, but at length overset Big Beelzebub 
again by one of the sharpest right-hand facers 
I ever saw : Big Beelzebub rallied, and put m 
a tight blow on Bob's mouth, which broke two 
«f his grinders ; but he kept his ground, and 
again threw his opponent, after boring him all 
round the ring. I am confident Bob would 
have got the best of it, but for his last unlucky 
fall : — but I'll tell you what : — you may depend 
upon it, if he don't die, (which is ten chances 



106 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

to one but he does,) and Big' Beelzebub fjver 
recovers his sight, (which is at present thought 
impossible,) I will make another match between 
them as soon as I can, and shall have no scru- 
ple to take the same bet? on Bob ; for I nevei 
saw a fellow throw in his blows better in my 
life than my friend Bob did, or do more to crip- 
ple his man : — I'll be bound he'll completely do 
him next time." 

Unluckily, the effect this delicate and deli- 
cious display of Mr. Twist's eloquence had 
upon my father, Mr. Har grave, and myself, was 
to make us completely silent, not only during 
the whole of its continuance, but when he had 
got fairly to the end ; so that, before we could 
recover from the state of disgust (and sickness, 
almost) into which he had thrown us, he 
abruptly turned aside to a fresh topic little less 
interesting. 

" But, only think," says he, " Mr. Dermont, 
of poor 2Vm i>a5/t .'"—" What of him?" says 
my father. "Shot himself!" says Mr. Twist: 
— " I had not heard a word of it," says my fa- 
ther ; — " It must be /lim," says Mr. Twist ; and, 
pulling a newspaper from his pocket, — " Here," 
says he, " is the only public account I have 

seen of it ; — ' It is with extreme concern,^ 

Ay, well they may say so, indeed ; poor Tom ! 
a better whip did not exist ; such a stud of 
horses ! I ^ It is ivith extreme concern ive hear, 
that a Gentleman, very celebrated in the sporting 
world, (ay, celebrated he was indeed, the finest 
and boldest rider you. ever saw; and such a 
shot !) put an end to his existence yesterday at 
an inn not very distant from the metropolis ;* — 
ay, at Salt Hill ; he was a member of the fVhip 



THlNKS-1-TOMYSELf. 107 

Club ; four beautiful roans he used to drive, so 
steady in harness, he was one of the best wliips 
among them ;" — " B-it," says ray father, " how 
do you know it was him ? his name is not men- 
tioned :" — " O, but I have it here in a private 
letter from a friend,^'' says Mr. Twist, pulling 
one from his pocket, of such a shape and colour 
as I scarce ever saw before ; — " it is from Sir 
Harry Hark-a-way's huntsman, with whom T 
occasionally correspond: — here, at the bottom 
of his letter, he says, — * I suppose your Hon- 
ner will have heered of pure Muster Dash ! ' 
(Muster Dash he writes, for he can't spell very 
well, and indeed I can scarce read his writing ;) 
— I suppose you will have heered of pure 
Muster Dash ! what a Moll and Colly event has 
be, be, be, be,' — the Devil ! the fellow writes 
such a hand, I can't really read it, — ' he-wap- 
pered him,' I think it is ;" — " Perhaps," says my 
father, " he-fallen him ?" — " O, ay, befallen 
him," says Mr. Twist, '- so it is : — ' What a Moll 
and Colly event has befallen him at Salt Hill !' 
— Ay, that's the place, you see, exactly, — an 
Inn not very distant from the Metropolis — there 
he shot himself, certainly :" — " But why shot 
himself?" says my father ; " I don't see that 
you have learned that yet." — " What I do you 
think he'd hang himself," says Mr. Twist, 
hastily, " like a scoundrel, or go through the 
tedious ceremony of poisoning himself.^ If his 
existence is terminated, as I too much fear, 
depend upon it, it was by a bullet, and from 
his own hand ; — Tom was not a bungler : 
— I wonder what will become of his stud ; 
— I should like to have his roans myself: — 
when I was a member of the Leicester hunt ' 



108 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

he used to ride a famous colt o^ Eclipse's, so 
like, that O'Kelly himself offered him 400 
guineas for it, merely on account of its like- 
ness ; not a hair different : — If you had but 
seen that horse take a leap ; — it was quite a 
o'rand sight ; so cool, so steady ; a child might 
have rode him ! — he used to rise and look 
round, as it were, to see if there were any 
stakes or bad ground on the other side, and 
whatever there might be, he was sure to clear 
it. — ^^I never shall forget a run we had one thir- 
teenth of November ;— bitter cold morning; 
long time before we found : — we were sitting 
on our horses together, under a wood, and I 
pulled out a hunting flask I had full of brandy, 
ihat I would not have lost for the world ; — just 
as poor Tom had got it to his mouth to drink, 
they unkennelled the fox ; — instead of return- 
ing my poor bottle into my possession, he threw 
it from him into the thickest part of the wood, 
behind him, and off he went ! — 1 never got near 
him again the whole day : — the horse was fitter 
for a race horse, but he would not run him, ex- 
cept for the hunter's plate once at Ascot, where 
he won hollow : — poor Tom I well, it's well he 
came to no worse end ! he was as near hanged 
once as could be." — " How so ?" says Mr. Mar- 
grave. — " Why, the case, you see," says Mr. 
Twist, " was exactly this : — I had it from one 
that was there :— ■ At a Tavern dinner at Liver- 
pool one day, Tom, being in tlie chair, proposed 
^profane toast ; — the man that sat next to him 
refused to drink it ; — Tom insisted ; — the man 
would not : he declared he would not only not 
drink it, but, if he knev/ the inventor of it, he 
should be disposed to chastise him : — " N'ot if 



THIISKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 109 

It were me, myself, sir," says Tom, "I sup- 
pose ?" (for, in fact, it was his own invention ;) 
— " Yes, sir," says the other, " if it were you, 
yourself, you ;" — upon which Tom, who had 
plenty of pepper in his blood, threw a glass of 
wine plump in his face ; — you may be pretty 
sure it was not easy to hush such a matter up; 
— pistols were procured by the friends of each 
party, and they went out immediately ; — at the 
very first fire, Tom's ball passed through his 
heart, and he dropped just as dead as a pancake. 
— Tom made off, as you may suppose ; and it was 
well he did, for the fellow he killed was much 
beloved, and was well connected, and had a wife 
and nine children, so that you may easily think 
it made a pretty dust : — Tom 'got abroad some- 
how or other, and there he staid till all the 
proceedings against him were supposed to be 
at an end ; but, as he certainly gave great 
provocation, had he been caught, and tried be- 
fore some illiberal old wovian of a Judge, he 
would certainly have been hanged." — Thinks- 
I-to-myself hanging would have been a thou- 
sand times too good for him. 

" But, pray," says my father, " how can you 
Call it a better end that he is come to now, if it 
should be true that he has shot himself V — " He 
could not possibly, my dear sir," says Mr. 
Twist, " have done a better deed ; — he was 
completely dished : he could never have ap- 
peared again : the rest of his days must, pro- 
bably, have been passed in the King's BencJi :" 
— " I don't quite know. Twist," says my father, 
"what you mean by dished, but I should just 
wish to ask, where you think the rest of hi^ 
days will be passed noiv V " O," says Mr. 
10 



no THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

Twist, " faith, I never thought of that ; my 
neiglibour here, Mr. Hargrave, perhaps, would 
answer that better than me ; but poor Tom, I 
must confess, I believe, did not much think of 
passing his time any where but here, and when 
he was tired of it, he made his bow, and away 
he went ;" — " And left," says my father, " all 
his brother whips to follow, I suppose ;" — " Fol- 
low where ?" says Mr. Twist. " I don't know," 
says my father ; " but not, I think, where they 
used to follow him, which was p:enerally, I ap- 
prehend, to the stable ;" — " Ay, often indeed," 
says Mr. Twist, " they did : it would have done 
your heart good to have seen the style in which 
he kept his horses." — " Well," says my father, 
" I am glad of that for the sake of the poor 
horses ; for, for what I know, they might be 
very sensible and worthy horses, and deserve to 
be pampered and high fed ;" — " They did in- 
deed," says Mr. Twist, not at all seeing the 
drift of the insinuation. 

" Well," says my father, " but what do you 
really think Tom Dash will ever do in a world 
without horses, or stables, or whips, or hounds, or 
birds, or guns ?" — "I don't think he'll go there," 
says Mr. Twist; — "Hold," says my father, 
" remember, Twist, he must go, if he's called, 
and he can't shoot himself out of the other world, 
as he has shot himself out of this ;" — "That I 
can't tell," says Mr. Twist ;—" But, surely," 
says my father, " you can't think he w^ill have 
that power ;" — " I tell you," says Mr. Twist, 
" I don't know ; but of this I am very certain, 
that he had power to go out of this world when 
he chose, and he made use of it." — " It seems 
to be just as you say," says my fatlier, " and 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 1 1 1 

yet I much question the truth of it." — " How 
so," says Mr. Twist ; " what 1 did'nt he shoot 
himself .^•' — " O ! I don't deny that," says my 
father, " but I much doubt whether he can 
fairly be said to have had power to do it ; — you. 
yourself, could certainly shoot me at this mo- 
ment if you chose it; but do you think the Law 
has given you power to do it ? Do you think you 
could safely do it without any chance of an after 
reckoning.?"— "O, O," says Mr. Twist," I *moA:t 
you now ; — you think suicide not lawful .'" — " 1 
do," says ray father ; " can you think other- 
wise ?"-- -" To be sure," says Mr. Twist ; " and 
it is but fair, that, as we came into this world 
without our own consent, we should not be com- 
pelled to stay in it if we don't like it:"— 
" That's very good indeed," says my father ; 
" so I suppose you think, when a culprit is put 
upon his triitl^ because he is brought to the 
bar against his own consent, he may quit the 
court at his own discretion, and not wait for 
the sentence of removal." 

" I'll tell you what," says Mr. Twist, " I am 
no Parliament man, (I was going to say hq Par- 
son, but I would not for the world be rude to 
Mr. Hargrave here,) but I say I am no Parlia- 
ment man, or Speechi/ier^ and therefore I can- 
not undertake to argue the point with you : 
but I have at home a Poem v/ritten, I do sup- 
pose, by one of the cleverest chaps in Chris- 
tendom, where the business is proved to a 
nicety : it begins, ' Averse from Life, nor well 
resolved to die.^ — I wish I could repeat it, bat 
I'll give it to my friend Bol) here, to-morrow, 
and he shall road it to you ; — if you can answer 
that, then I wjli be ready to confess that poot 



U'2 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

Tom Dash had better have staid where he 
was." — " You had better," says my father, 
" give it to Bob, for if you give it to me, fifty 
to one but I put it in the fire ;" — " I wouhl not 
part with it for the world," says Mr. Twist ; 
" so don't play tricks with it ; I only say, an- 
swer it." 

My father begged he would send it ; — " It 
will surely be pleasant," says he, " to any of 
us, nay, an extreme happiness, to learn that 
we may shoot ourselves whenever we please ; 
only, till I see the Poem, be assured, Twist, that 
I won't believe we possess any such power or 
privilege ; — no, not if ten thousand Tom Dashes 
were to shoot themselves before my face." 
Just at this moment a summons to tea arrived, 
and we arose to go to the drawing room. 

My father, I really believe, felt glad to have 
inveigled Mr. Twist, as it were, into an argu- 
ment of this sort, hoping in time to be able to 
open his eyes a little to the extreme folly, 
worthlessness, and absurdity, of the life led by 
himself and too many of his acquaintance. 

After tea, we had Delia, which made, I sup- 
pose, its usual impressions upon us both ; — that 
is, it made Miss Twist think of me, and me of 
Emily Mandeviile ; I confess, I could not help 
thinking more than ever of the latter. Thinks- 
I-to-mi/self, surely nothing can render it very 
decorous in me to ennoble the daughter of a 
stable-keeper, a groom, a huntsman, the friend 
of murderers and suicides! 

The next day the Poem came, directed to 
the reader's most humble servant, that is, to 
me, the clodpole ; and fitly enough ; for, 
Thinks- I-to-my self, Mr. Twist surely fancies i 



THlJNKS-i-rO-MYSELF. 113 

shall never consent to marry his daughter, un- 
less I have free leave from God and man to 
quit the vuorld at any time afterwards that I 
please I Upon running my eye over the poem, 
I began to think it might be quite safe in Mr. 
Twist's hands, for it seemed to me much above 
both the extent of his comprehension, and the 
measure of his taste ; the lines were nervous, 
strong, and apparently from the hand of a mas- 
ter : I carried them to my father ; he read 
them very attentively : — " Have you read 
them?" says he ; " I have, sir," says I ; — " Do 
you like them ?" says my father. " I think 
the lines are certainly strong, and the poetry 
good ;" " But the argumtnt,^^ says my father ; — 
" I should wish, sir, to consider it more," says I ; 
" Do, my boy," says my father ; " and mind put 
down upon any scrap of paper your objections 
as you go along, if any occur." 

I took the poem from him, and, as was gene- 
rally the case when I wanted to consider things 
with particular attention, I walked into the 
park with the poem in my pocket ; — while 
there I perused it again carefully ; noted my 
objections with a pencil, as my father had de- 
sired, and was going to return, when, Thinks- 
I-to-myself, why not answer it in verse ? — I re- 
tired into a more secluded part of the park, 
and, taking stanza by stanza, went tlirough the 
whole, till I had written a regular reply. 

I carried it in haste to my father, and he ran 
with it eagerly to Mr. IJargrave ; as they both 
approved of it, I wrote it out fair, and, as they 
seemed to think it a proper reply to a mis- 
chievous poem, which, for what I know, may 
10* 



114 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

still be travelling about the world alone, as was 
the case when it came into my hands, I shall 
here present the reader with the companion I 
ventured to provide for it, sincerely hoping 
that no Tom Dash will henceforward shoot 
himself till he has carefully read both : as for 
the poetry of the latter, I care not a fig about 
it : I can only assert, which I do most positive- 
ly, that the argument it contains will for ever 
prevent my T'om Dashing my own brains out, 
yea, though I should happen to be wedded to 
such another as Miss Twist. 



THE SUICIDE. 

Averse from Life, nor well resolv'd to die, 
Us'd but to murmur, I retain my breath j 

Yet pant, entarg-ed from this dull world, to try 
The hospitable, thoug-h cold arms of Death. 

What future joys should bid me wish to live ? 

What flait'ring dreams of belter days remain 1 
What prospect can obscure existence give 

A recompense for penury and pain 'I 

Is there a hope that o'er this unton'd frame 
Awaken'd Health her wonted glow shall spread ? 

Is there a path to pleasure, wealth or fame, 

Which sickness, languor and remorse can tread ? 

Why, therefore, should I doubt ? what should I fear I 
Why for a moment longer bear my grief V 

Behold ! — my great Deliverer is near, — 
Immediate as I wish his prompt relief! 

Oh I instance strange of free but blinded will, 
Discuss'd so much, so little understood! 

To bear the certainty of present ill. 

Before the certain chance of ill or good ! 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 115 

Bui what that chance ?— Why, be it what it ma>. 
Still 'tis a chance, — and here my woes are sure < 

— " Yet think these woes are sc^rrows of a day 
While those to all eternity endure !" 

Think of the horrors of eternal pain !_ 

" Imag'nation startles at the name: 
Nor can impress upon the labouring brain 

Duration endless still, and still the same." — 

Well hast thou said ; — nor can it be impress'd ,— 

Has blind credulity that abject slave, 
Who thinks his nothingness, for ever bless'd. 

Shall hold eternal triumph o'er the grave 1 

When oceans cease to roll, rocks melt away, 

Atlas and JEina sink into the plain, 
The glorious Sun, the elements decay. 

Shall Man, Creation's flimsiest work, remain ? 

What shall remain of Man ? His outward frame ! 

Soon shall that moulder to its native dust ! 
Or haply that unbodied, subtle flame, 

Which occupies arwi animates tlie bust 1 

Let but a finger ache, the kindred Soul 

Its intimate alliance shall perceive 5 
Let ultimate destruction grasp the whole, 

The Sou!, immortal and unchang'd, shall live • 

Stop but one conduit, and the tone is lost •, 
But, burst each pipe, and tear up every key, 

Then shall tie decompounded Organ's ghost, 
Swell the loud peal of endless harmony' 

So shall that quality, whose pow'rs arise 
From various parts, by nicest art arrang'd. 

With every shock they suffer, sympathize. 
Yet after their destruction live unchanged ' 

So much for argument ; the Legends vain 
Of Priestly craft reach not th' ingenuous mind ; 

Let knaves invent, and folly will maintain, 
The wildest system that deludes mankind 



1 16 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

t)id there exist the very Hell they paint, 
Were there the very Heav'n they desire, 

'Twere hard to choose , a De\ii or a Saint, 
Eternal Sing-Soug, or Eternal Fire ! 

Ye .'die Hop^s of future joys, farewell ! 

Farewell, ye groundless Fears of future wo 
Lo ! the sole argument on which to dwell, 

Shall 1, or shall I not, this life forego 1 

I know the storm that waits my destin'd head, 
The trifling joys I yet may hope to reapj 

The momentarj'^ pang I have to dread, 
The stale of undisturb'd, undreaming sleep ! 

Then all is known, — and all is known too well 
Or to distract, or to delay my choice : — 

No hopes solicit, and no tears rebel, 
Against niine ultimate, determin'd voice. 

Had I suspicions that a future state 
Might yet exist, as haply I have none ; 

'Twere worth the cost to venture on my fate 
ImpelI'd by curiosity alone.— 

Sated with life, and amply gratify'd 
In every varied pleasure life can give, 

One sole enjoymeui yet remains untry'd, 
One only novelty, — to cease to live. 

Not yet reduc'd a scornfiji alms to crave. 

Not yet of those with whom I live the sport, 
No great mati's pander, parasite, or slave, 

O death ! 1 seek thy hospitable port ! 

Thou, like a virgin in her bridal sheet, 
Seemest prepar'd consenting kind to lie; 

The happy bridegroom, I, with hasty feet, 
Fly io thy arms in rapturous ecstasy. 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 115 

ANSWER. 

Nevek rpore modulate with your sweet aid, 
Ye gentle Muses ! such unhallowed strains ! 

" Resolv'd to die !" —shall this by Man be said t 
Tbaukless for pleasure, snail he hear no pains 

To him, who from the cold tomb hopes to rise, 
Death's icy arms full " hospitable" are ; 

But who, averse from this world, murm'ring flies, 
Thy sling-, O grave ! mislakingly may dare ! 

Whv dost thou ask, if ilatl'ring hopes remain ? 

I^to thy " unton'd frame" health may return t 
Siyre lo new scenes of pleasure or of pam. 

Some hand may burst the cerements of thy urn. 

The varying seasons expectation give : 
Go to the clos'd up buds in winter's gloom} 

Ask by what recreating pow'r they live. 
In gay spring-tide wlw renovates their bloom ! 

This is experience : — but the grave's unknown ! 

From pain, from sickness, and from penury, 
From earthly tribulations, when thou'rl flown, 

How dost'lhou know Death will deliver thee ? 

It is no instance of a blinded will 

To shun a chance so little understood j 
Better to bear the weight of present ill. 

Than risk the certain loss of future good. 

What is thy chance, then 1 — Here thy lot is sure t 
" The days of Man are threescore years and ten/' 

And seldom more ; — how long tliey may endure, 
The wisest knows not if we live again. 

Why does Eternity so startle you ? 

Say, is it easier to comprehend 
What pow'r this mighty system can undo. 

And every thing annihilate and end ? 

Exen ihy reason ; surely that's no slave ; 

Why should'st thou trust to what thou canst net know ? 
Thy thouglUs destroy us, reason tries to save 

And, unpresuming, says, it may be so. 



il8 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF 

Should •' Oceans cease lo roll, rocks melt away, 

•' Alias and Miim sink into the plain, 
" The glorious Sun, the elements, decay," 

Man, the Creator's image, niay remain ! 

All may remam of Man ! His outward frame 
May for the present moulder and decay j 

But yet not lost, if God '">'main the same ; 
He Jiaih called unfonii'd beings into day ! 

Let but a finger ache, the kindred soul 

Its intimate alliance may perceive j 
Yet cut off limbs, the mind continues whole j 

Uiiinjnr'd. unimoair'd, it yet may live ! 

laitop but one conduit, and the tone is lost ; 

And burst each pipe, and tear up every key j 
Still (or some new-form'd Irame the " Organ's Ghosr 

May yet exist : unaher'd Harmony ! 

Cm) may " that quality,'' whose pow'rs arise 
ISot from man's feeble and decaying frame, 

With every shock it suff'ers, sympathize, 
Yet, after its destruction, live the same. 

May this be argument •,— th' ingenuous mind 
Builds not on priestly craft or legends vain j 

Sure the sad system that destroys mankind. 
Knaves have invented, fbllv does maintain ! 

Is there the Hell that holy writ declares ? 

The Heav'n we hope for, is it really such ? 
The wretch that shrinks from this world and its cares 

Li such a choice, would hesitate not much. 

" Shall I, or shall 1 not, this life forego ?"— 
This is the argument on which you'd dwell ; 

Yet sure 'tis weak, unknowing where you go. 
To bid the chances of this world farewell. 

The will of Heav'n's concealed from human eye ! 

How <lare you say, you " know the storm to come ?" 
The parting pang may be but momentary j 

But may there be no dreaming m the tomb ? 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 119 

All is not known ; yet sure enough is seen 
Much to delay and counteract Uiy choice ; 

Hopes should solicit, fears should intervene 
Against thy rash and ill-determin'd voice. 

Thy curiosity will soon be o'er j 

Why should'sl thou go in danger all alone ? 
Canst thou not tarry one short moment more, 

The term of this Life's limited and known ? 

Sated with Life, and all its varying joys, 
Tr^ no new scene you cannot judge of well j 

God, in his own good time, will raise his voice j 
If you believe not Heav'n, yet i-isk not Hell ! 

" No great man's pander, parasite, or slave, 
" Nor 3'et of those with whom you live the sport, 

" Nor yet reduc'd a scornful alms to crave," 
Why like a fugitive to death resort ? 

Death's arms are hospitable but to those 
Who have fulfiil'd on earth Heav'n's high decrees ; 

The Good in the cold grave 7na?j fsnd repose, 
And wake at last to lieavenly ecstasies. 

My father would have the answer sent to 
Nicotium Castle, and he got Mr. Hargrave to 
carry it: — what Mr. Twist said to it, Mr. Har- 
grave would never exactly tell us, but he as- 
.sured us, that, before he left him, Mr. Twist 
expressed a wish that poor Tom Dash had read 
it; — he afterwards acknowledged to my father, 
that he would look sharp himself before he 
ever took such a leap ; so that, altogether, I be- 
lieve it did good ; — but as for arguing the mat- 
ter much, he was certainly not very capable of 
it, either in prose or verse. 



END OF VOL. !. 



V L U M E 1 1. 



THIJ?f KS-I-TO-M Y SELF 



Not long after the visit described m the 
former volume, and the writing of the poem, I 
strolled down to the Vicarage, thinking in my 
own mind that I would soon muster up courage 
to disclose to Emily the situation of my heart. 
While I was there, my mother and sister called, 
and, quite unexpectedly to me, proposed taking 
Emily home in the carriage to pass three or 
four days at the Hall : — hump^ bump, hump-, 
hump, went my poor heart directly : — the in- 
vitation was accepted, and she actually return- 
ed with them. I went on to Mrs. Fidget's, 
with a message from my mother, rejoicing all 
the way, of course, at the thoughts of finding 
Emily at the Hall on my return. 

Now I suppose, that any body, who never 
had my complaint, would naturally conclude, 
that, all the time Emily staid at Grumblethorpe, 
I was particularly lively and gay ; exerted all 
my talents to amuse her and engage her atten- 
tion ; — nothing of the kind ! I was ten times 
more shy of her than of Miss Twist : if I spoke 
to her upon the most common occasion, it was 
always under some embarrassment, and if I 
attempted at any time to be witty and face- 
tious, nothing could possibly exceed the non- 
sense that came out of my mouth ; so that at 
last I began seriously to think of laving aside 



I2i THTNKS-I-TO-MYSLLF. 

that organ of speech, and of talking to her 
merely with my eyes : — with the latter, I felt 
far more capable of discoursing with her, and 
had no reason to think such ocular language 
was very unintelligible to her ; had she had but 
confidence and assurance enough to answer 
me, (which, however, I liked her only the bet- 
ter for not having,) I make no doubt but that 
the exact state of both our hearts might have 
been made known to each other without the 
utterance of letter, syllable, word, or sentence. 
One evening, during her stay, the Twists 
came. I believe they wondered to see the 
companion my sister had chosen. Nothing 
could exceed the assurance with which Miss 
Twist appeared to make me her own : had she 
had a spark of real love for me, she would have 
been more diffident, as I knew by my own feel- 
ings. While we were amusing ourselves al- 
together with charades, riddles, thread-paper 
verses, and other such wonderful efforts of ge- 
nius, she slipped a paper into my hands, which, 
she said, was a conundrum ; when I opened it, 
I found it to be, 

*^ li'you love me as /love you, 

" Need these twaiyi be longer two?'' 

which I apprehend she had learned ot her 
house-maid : 1 pretended to laugh at it, but, am 
ashamed to say, was, at the same time, inward- 
ly provoked to think to myself the following 
short reply : — 

" Ifijon love me as /love yau. 

" I know (!ic reason whv we're two " 



THINKS-I-TO MYSELF. 125 

But indeed I verily believe that the twain were 
upon pretty equal terms, and that she did real- 
ly love me much about as well as / loved her; 
how many tivain under such circumstances be- 
come one in the course of every year, I pretend 
not even to guess ; hut, perhaps, now and then 
riches and coronets do meet together under no 
better circumstances ; perhaps 5ome-times un- 
der worse ; I know nothing about it. 

I began, however, to be very confident that 
some edairsissement must take place very soon ; 
but, as I studiously avoided giving her any en- 
couragement, I was in hopes some of the el- 
ders of the party would think fit to begin the 
inquiry I wished to be made into the state of 
my sentiments. Emily staid with us four days ; 
— during which time, though I had not suffered 
a voiv or a promise, or even an inquii'y, to pass 
my lips, I yet felt satisfied that I had made 
many communications of this nature with my 
eyes : I was still, however, under considerable 
alarm about the state of her heart ; she had a 
cousin who often visited at the Vicarage, just 
about her own age, whose eyes I could have 
poked out at any time, and given them to the 
birds, I felt so afraid of them ; for he looked at 
her as well as me, and while she was with us, 
she was working him a purse. The first time 
I discovered who this purse was for, I passed 
the whole night without once closing my eyes, 
in such an agony of distress, and despair, and 
torment, that it is a great wonder I was not 
quite a corpse before the morning. 

I have often heard this, and that, and t'o^hel 
pain mentioned as the luorst that mortals can 
endure : such as the tooth-ache^ ear-ache^ head- 
11* 



126 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

ache, cramp in the calf of the leg, a hiit, or a 
blister : now I protest, though I have tried all 
these, nothing seems to me at all to come up 
to a pndtjf sharp fit of jealousy. Give me the 
man that will lay quite quiet all night in his 
bed, and sleep composedly, after he has had 
reason to suspect that some other man is of far 
more account than himself in the eyes of his 
mistress: for my own part, the torture of such 
a state of mind always appeared to me so tran- 
scendently terrible, that, even now, I had rather 
have the toothe-ache, ear-ache, and cramp, all at 
once, with a blister on my back into the bargain, 
than undergo what I felt the night of which I 
speak ; I mean, when I found that the purse 
Emily was netting (and which I had been 
every evenmg admiring) was promised to her 
cousin ; I have heard since, that he is really a 
very good sort of young man, and yet that night 
I could not get it out of my head that he was 
a devii ! — a downright devil I — a fiend ! I sup- 
pose this was all very natural, but it serves to 
show what blunders nature may make when 
she goes to work without reason. — Thinks-I- 
to-myself most certainly, " la raison n^est pas 
ce qui regie Vamoury 

What will the reader think was the state of 
my mind, when, a little while afterwards, my 
sister, having called at the Vicarage, brought 
me back a purse exactly of the same pattern! 
"There." says she, " Robert, you are in luck ; 
— you admired the purse so much that Miss 
Mandeville was netting while she was with us, 
that slie has been at the trouble of working 
another for you exactly like it, of which she 
begs your acceptance ; it is not quite the same, 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF 127 

I see," says she, " for, I observe, she has ho- 
noured you with gold tassels instead of silk 
ones." I leave you to guess, gentle, sentimental, 
reader, vi'h ether the purse v^ould have at all 
risen in value, had it been filled brim full with 
all Miss I'vvist's hundreds of thousands of 
pounds. 

Two or three mornings after tins dear and 
precious present was made to me, (I cannot help 
stopping now to think how often I kissed it,} 
while we were at breakfast, the post came in, 
and my father, opening one of the letters, — 
" The deuce take it," says ho, " it's come at 
last i" 'IViinks-I-to-myself, — what's come ? — but 
my mother said it aloud ; — " What^s come at 
last, Mr. Dermont ?" — " Ay," says my father, 
" poor Mr. Dermont ! you must take leave of Mw, 
I am afraid, for ever !" — " Good God !" says my 
mother, "what do you mean?" and was near 
fainting : my father, God help him, had not the 
smallest intention of exciting such alarm ; when 
he saw my mother turn so pale, he was fright- 
ened out of his wits ; — " Lord 1" says he, " how 
could I be such an idiot; it's nothing but chat 
nasty Scotch Barony that is come ; for old 
Lady Tay-and-Tumble is dead, and I am Lord 
Kilgarnock !" 

Never did a peerage, I believe, Scotch, Eng- 
lish, or Irish, meet with a more unwelcome re- 
ception; for we were all loo much occupied 
with the recovery of my mother to take any 
further notice of it, so that, by the time Mr. 
Hargrave joined the breakfast party, the Ba- 
roness Kilgarnock seemed to have quite for- 
gotten it ; for, as soon as he entered, — " Do," 
says slie, " Mr. Dermont^ make Mr. Hargrave 



128 THINKS-I-TO-xMYSELF. 

understand that we are not all crazy, for I am 
sure he must think so:" as my mother got 
better, we, of course, returned to our seats, 
and then Mr. Harorrave was duly made ac- 
quainted with all that had passed. 

It was settled, however, that not a word at 
present should be said about it ; " For God's 
sake," says my father, "let me toka breath a 
little before it is made known, for I fear I shall 
soon be surfeited with ' my Lord,^ and ' your 
Lordship.^ " — It could not, however, be kept se- 
cret long, for, in two hours after, an express 
arrived, requiring my father's presence in 
Scotland, if possible, or, if not possible, at least 
in London, to sign some papers of consequence. 
— The news therefore transpired, and Mr. 
Dermont became my Lord; and, for my own 
part, let the title come as it would, I, of all 
people m the world, had reason to be glad ; 
for nothing could be more puzzling than my 
own appellation before my father became a 
lord, for, being not advanced beyond my boy- 
hood, some of the servants would still continue 
to call me Master Bobby ; some, advancing a 
little further, would call me Mister Bobby; 
some, Mr. Robert, and some, Mr. Robert Der- 
mont . but now the point was happily settled : 
— the Honourable Bob, or Bobby, would never 
do ; the Honourable Robert was quite right in 
matters of form, but, for colloquial purposes and 
cases of personal address, Mr. Dermont became 
my exclusive property. 

It was curious to see how many notes we 
received, in the compass of a few days, direct 
ed to the Right Honourable Lady Kilgarnock. 
— Poor Miss Twist made a blunder that was 



THINKS-i-TO-MYSELF. 121) 

very natural, but almost laughable from its 
coming so soon ; for, on the very evening of the 
day the news came, my sister received a note 
from her, directed to the Honourable Miss Kil- 
garnock ; she fancied, poor thing, that we were 
Kilgarnocked from one end of the family to the 
other, and that Dermont was become quite a 
plebeian name — a mere cast-away. 

The first person I saw after the safe arriva. 
of the title was Mr. Mandeville. If the reader 
thinks he made a lower bow to the Honourable 
Mr. Bob than usual, lie will be much mistaken ; 
for he came, on the contrary, expressly to 
chide and rebuke me ; almost to insult me : 
Emily having made me a present of a purse, I, 
naturally, but perhaps ytill without reason, 
(who ought always to be at hand to checji her 
wayward sister,) had wished to make her some 
present in return ; and because I was far frpm 
London, and every other place where a sump- 
tuous present might be purchased, I had beg- 
ged my sister to let me have back a locket I 
had given her, with my hair in it, very prettily 
ornamented with pearls. — This present Mr. 
Mandeville in much form brought back to me ; 
my heart bumped as much as ever, though I 
had become the Honourable ; he gave it back 
into my hand, and begged I would on no ac- 
count give her such a present : — " If you have 
some paltry thing," says he, " about the worth 
of her purse, to send back, I'll freely take it, as 
a present from one play-fellow to another ; but 
as for your lockets and hair, I must not admit 
mich things."— "My dear Mr. Mandeville," 
gays I, '• you shall have what you please, only 
let me beg, that, if / give it to you, you will no* 



130 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. * 

vainly fancy that you have the worth of the 
purse ; — how much I value it, I neither dare 
..ell yoii, nor any body else :" — he shook me by 
the hand, and wished me good bye, taking with 
him a mere fancy seal that I had brought from 
Scotland. 

Any body will suppose that we v/ere now 
seldom without company ; but the title, I plain- 
ly saw, had redoubled all the attacks of the 
Twist family, so that, at last, I fairly felt it 
necessary to speak to Mr. Hargrave about it. 
— As we were riding together, one day, — " I 
see," says I, " my dear sir, some things daily 
happen, that I am afraid will some time or 
other occasion misunderstandings, if not disap- 
pointments : — I see that, both at home and at 
Nicotium Castle, expectations are entertained 
that I shall one time or other marry Miss Twist ; 
— my good father, I think, has partly set his 
heart upon it, but the Twists, I am sure, make 
certain of it : — it is fit, therefore, I think, that 
I should openly and explicitly explain to some- 
body, that that match never can take place I 
Nothing, I think, can ever possibly persuade 
me to marry a woman so erroneously and so 
foolishly educated : — of her person I say no- 
thing. — If I could love her, I should not care 
about the frame her soul happened to be set 
in, — ^but I cannot. — Her father is to me little 
less than an object of sovereign contempt, ex- 
cept that I pity him, and therefore would go 
far to do him any good. — Her mother is a vain, 
weak, fantas'tical woman, and after this what 
can we expect the daughter to be, except in- 
deed, I must observe, that it might be other- 
wise if Miss Watson had full sway : — then she 



- THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 131 

might be something- ; but, with a father ana 
mother so deplorably ignorant, an angel of a 
governess could do nothing. — I leave it to you, 
my dear sir, to make this known to my father •, 
and, that I may be as ingenuous as possible, 1 
wish to add, at once, that my heart is other- 
wise engaged, and I think indelibly so." 

Here I stopped ; — and Mr. Hargrave stopped 
also, — his horse I mean, for as yet he had said 
nothing : — however, after a little recollection, 
he rode on : — " I have listened," says he, " at- 
tentively to all you have said. — Young men 
and old men see things so differently, that I 
cannot pretend even to guess what your father 
will say to this : — I know that he has, as you 
observe, partly set his mind on your marrying 
Miss Twist, and every body else, I can safely 
say, expects it. You think otherwise ; but it 
is foolish to fancy, that, though you are heir to 
a title, three hundred thousand pounds are ig- 
nominiously to be rejected. — I know perfectly 
well that they are at your command. — One 
word from yourself might for ever unite these 
two nobie and contiguous estates. I am afraid 
you are weak, though I confess you appear 
strong. Your mouth speaks wisely, but I fear 
your heart judges foolishly." — " My dear sir," 
says I, " say not this till you know more :" — 
" I wish to know more," says he ; "I wish to 
know all — I should wish to know, (but there I 
am sure I shall be disappointed,) I should wish 
to know how and where your heart is en- 
gaged :" — " Sir," says 1, " you shall not be dis- 
appointed ; — I will tell you fairly and openly ; 
— Miss Mandeville is the person I wish to make 
my wife, if she will have me :" — " If ski will 



132 THINKS -I-TOMYSELF. - 

have you /" says Mr. Hargrave. — " I suppose 
you pretty well know whether she will have 
you or not !" — " Sir," says I, " 1 do not : — 1 
know no more of Miss Mandeville's private 
sentimonts than yourself; but I will marry her 
if / can ;" — " You speak boldly, young Gentle- 
man," S3 id Mr. Hargrave ; and, I must confess, 
he appeared angry, which I was sorry for. 

For this time we said little : — he seemed to 
be* absorbed in thought ; — for my own part, I 
felt relieved. We returned to the Hall ; and 
every thing seem&d, for several days, to pro- 
ceed as usual. — My father had been obliged to 
go to London, and of course nothing could be 
done till his return. — I kept a good deal to my- 
self. Mr. Hargrave often came to me, but al- 
ways seemed to behave with much reserve : he 
even ventured, one day, to speak slightmgly 
of the Mandevilles, so as almost to excite my 
indignation. 

At length ray father returned from London, 
and I knew that in a few days every thing 
would be disclosed : — one, two, three, and four 
days passed, before I observed the smallest 
alteration : — on the fifth day, I must confess, I 
perceived a difference : — my father, at dinner, 
instead of saying, — " What do you eat, my dear 
Bob ?" said, " Robert, what do you eat .^" — and 
sometimes (though I think he was absent) 
called me sir. On the sixth day, however, the 
dreadful business came out; — Mr. and Mrs. 
Twist called at the Hall ; my father sent for 
me, and I excused myself: — as soon as they 
were gone, he came up to my room : I saw 
plainly he was agitated : " I suppose, sir," says 
he, " you think it a trifling thing to make fools 



THINK S-I-TO-MYSELF. 133 

of your parents ;" — " By no means, sir," says I ; 
" so far from it, that I can solemnly declare, 
nothing would go nearer to break my heart 
than to be compelled to do any thing that 
would really distress either my father or my 
mother." My father looked rather surprised 
and overcome, and I really pitied him : — " You 
know," says he, " Robert^ how much we have 
been led to think, and to hope, and expect, that 
a union wo'ild, one time or other, take place 
between the Twist family and ours : our estates 
are contiguous : the joint property would be 
enormous, and no expense has been spared upon 
Miss Twist's education :"— " Sir," says I, " I 
grant it all ; but I do not like Miss Twist, and 
ray heart is otherwise engaged :" — " Otherwise 
engaged .'" says my father ; " that is the worst 
of it : I might reasonably have indulged you 
in a choice about Miss Twist, but to have gone 
and engaged yourself, without consulting me, 
to a person quite hene-ath you, is such an act of 
iisrespect and disregard, that I cannot over- 
ook it ;" — " Sir," says I, " somebody must 
surely have told you that I have engaged my- 
self to somebody quite beneath, me, else you 
would not have said it :" — " Somebody has told 
me so, undoubtedly," says my father, " and I 
do not scruple to say who, because he did not 
enjoin me to any secrecy ; — Mr. Hargrave it 
was, who told me that you not only rejected 
Miss Twist, but that you had engaged your 
heart at least, if not your hand, to a person 
quite beneath you ;" — " Sir," says I, " I wonder 
Mr. Hargrave should say so, but it is difficult 
to know friends from foes ;" — " Mr. Hargrave," 
says my father, " cannot reasonably be judged 



134 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

to be your/oe, because he has told me the truth j 
they 7}iay be the best friends who do so at any 
hazard ;" — " Sir," says I, " I should not call 
Mr. Hargrave ray foe, had he merely told you 
the truth ; but when I hear that he has told you, 
that I have fixed my affections on o, person quite 
beneath me, I think he has not told you the truthf^ 
— " That may be, Robert," says my father, " as 
you happen to think ; a person may appear to 
Mr. Hargrave quite beneath you, whom you, 
in the extravagance of a foolish passion, may 
judge to be your equal :" — " I cannot dispute 
that, sir," says I, " but still my feelings may 
be acute upon the subject, and I ought to be 
forgiven for fancying, at least, that the object 
of my choice is not quite beneath me, as you 
and Mr. Hargrave seem disposed to believe :" 
" That she is really so," says my father, " I can- 
not but believe now, more than ever, because, 
were it not so, I think before this you would have 
been ingenuous enough to have told me who it 
was :" — " Has not Mr. Hargrave then, sir," says 
I, " already told you ?" — " By no means," says 
my father : " he has only informed me, (which 
I fear will go nigh to bring my gray hairs with 
sorrow to the grave,) that it is some person 
quite beneath you .•" — " Then, sir," says I, " if 
you are really so prepossessed, I almost/e€/ as 
if I should scorn to name her :" — " You seem 
to speak proudly, young man," says my father : 
my heart, I must confess, was almost breaking 
all this time ; never had my father, since the 
day of my birth, addressed me in such distant 
terms : " Sir," says I, " not proudly, but honest- 
ly ; the woman I have chosen is not, in my es- 
timation, quite beneath me ; far, very far from 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 135 

it ! and surely I should speak proudly indeed 
to call her so, if the contrary be the truth :" 
" But why," says my father, " not boldly name 
her then at once ?" — " Sir," says I, " if you 
challenge me to speak it boldly, your curiosity 
shall be satisfied ; Miss Mandeville, sir, is the 
person, and I noiv scorn to conceal it :" my fa- 
ther ran to the window, and threw it up; 
^'- Miss Mandeville P^ says he; "Miss Mande- 
ville, sir," says I. He walked up and down the 
room for some time, and at last, turning to me, 
" Robert," says he, " these are unpleasant 
meetings between father and son ; and, as 
neither your feelings nor mine seem to be un- 
der due command, we had better converse upon 
this subject another time :" so saying, he gave 
me his hand, which I most reverently kissed, 
pressing it to my bosom : he quickly retired, 
and left me absorbed in grief 

I remained alone in my room nearly an hour : 
at length somebody knocked at my door ; I 
opened it, and who should be there but Mr, 
Hargrave ! I confess, I shuddered at the sight 
of a man, who, I thought, had so cruelly be- 
trayed me : says he, "May I come in ?" — " Cer- 
tainly, sir," says I : " I am afraid," says he, 
" your father and you have had an unpleasant 
meeting:" "Certainly, sir," says I, "not the 
more pleasant from some crutl misrepresenta- 
tions that I think ha\ e been made to him :" — " I 
suppose," says Mr. Hargrave, " you mean that 
1 did wrong in speaking of Miss Mandeville as 
a person quite beneath you ;" — " I have no 
scruple, sir," says I, " to assert that you did do 
wrong, because I avow it to be a gross viola- 
tion of the truth. Why is a person of such 



136 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

parentage, and education, and singular worth 
as Miss Mandeville can boast, to be accounted 
beneath any man, merely because she has not 
large worldly endowments ? I feel, sir^ that 
you have done ine an unkindnes.t, but by her 
ycu have acted unjustly, and therefore disho- 
nourably : my heart is full, sir, and for fear 1 
should speak more disrespectfully, I wish you 
would have the goodness to retire :"- -but I 
could not get him to stir an inch : — on the con- 
trary, he seemed to look at me with a cast of 
countenance I by no means liked ; there was a 
smile upon his face bordering upon ridicule ; 
I could scarcely command my temper ; when 
at last, to my utter surprise, he took me by the 
arm ; " My young friend," says he, " how can 
you be so blind ?" I knew not what he meant : 
" Mine," says he, " is a curious situation to 
stand in; I have disobliged, it appears, both 
father and son by the same act, for your father 
has treated me much like yourself; he has 
equally accused me of deceiving him, and vio- 
laiinir the truth, by speaking so contemptuously 
of Miss Mandeville /" — my heart seemed to re- 
vive a little, but I could not yet understand 
him : " Shall I disclose to you," says he, the 
full scope of my intentions ?" — " Sir," says I. 
" for God's sake, do ; for my present suspense 
is beyond every thing painful." 

" Then," says he, "listen to me patiently :— 
I have been long enough at Grumblethorpe to 
judge of the general aspect of things : — I have 
long seen that it was your father's wish that 
you should marry Miss Twist, in order to unite 
two estates lying so contiguous, and in order 
the better to support a title which, he far, f^isr 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 137 

IS come to him without any additional fortune. 
.[ have seen also, of course, that the Twists 
have all wished it, and, in my estimation, done 
much to force and compel the match, without, 
much regard to your private feelings : — it has 
been my endeavour^ therefore, for some time, 
while I appeared to favour your father's wishes, 
(to which I owed every possible respect,) to 
ascertain, if I could, the exact state of your awn 
sentiments ; and I at last, as you know, suc- 
ceeded : — you explicitly told me all I could wish 
to be made acquainted with : — when I found 
that your views and your falher^s were so dif- 
ferent, I confess, it occasioned me no small 
embarrassment and sorrow, — for I love and 
esteem you both, to a degree that I shall not 
attempt to describe : — finding that your affec- 
tions were really fixed on a person so truly 
amiable and respectable as Miss Mandeville, 
though without fortune or high connexions, I 
judged it would be best to awaken your father's 
fears as much as possible ;— even to run the 
risk of making him sufler real anguish and dis- 
tress of mind, that, when the actual truth came 
to be known, instead of being a disappointment, 
it might, in fact, be a great relief, — and I am 
truly happy to say, my plans seem to have suc- 
ceeded ; — for, though I still labour under the 
reproach of both, I am able to assure you, that, 
after the dreadful suspicions and apprehen- 
sions your father had been led to entertain, 
the nanu? of Miss Mandeville has appeared to 
him like the name of an angel : you, yourself, 
could not have more warmly resented than he 
has done the slur cast upon her character : — I 
must now return to him, and settle what I have 
12* 



138 TJllNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

thus put in train, and shall only stop to com- 
municate one other circumstance, which is 
this ; that while I was at Edinburgh, and par- 
ticularly during our wintry visit to Aberdeen, 
I was able to ascertain, beyond all possibility 
of doubt, that an estate of more than 10,000L 
per annum descends to your father with the 
title of Kilg-arnock ; it may cost a lawsuit, if 
the parties are weak enough to contest it, but 
I am told they will not, if the papers I have 
examined and secured are known to be produ- 
cible :" saying this, he left me, when I threw 
myself upon the bed, quite exhausted with the 
conflict I had had to go through ; I found 
means to excuse my appearance at dinner, and 
heard no more of it till Mr. Hargrave came up 
to me in the evening. 

As soon as he came in, he took me by the 
hand : — " Now," says he, " my dear boy, if you 
can succeed with Miss Mandeville, every thing 
is settled here at home ; — your worthy father 
seems only anxious to repair the injury he fan- 
cies he has done to Miss Mandeville, by treat- 
ing her, though only for a moment, and while 
he was even ignorant of whom he was speak- 
ing, as quite beneath the notice of any man 
alive ; he has commissioned me to-morrow, 
early, to speak to her father about it ; but 1 do 
not see, myself, why you should not first, in 
your own person, make known your attachment 
to her ; you are both young, and there's no hur- 
ry ; — if she should not happen to like you after 
all, she had better be left free to tell you so ; 
as you are quite able to marry her, the con- 
sulting her father first would be running a risk, 
perhaps, of occasioning some other sort of bias ; 



THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 130 

—and if she should happen not to like you. 
(which I think is improbable from what I have 
observed, but if it should be so,) her father may 
be spared a disappointment, by the business 
going no further ; therefore, if you have no ob- 
jection, I will propose it to your family, that 
you shall be at liberty to make your own ad- 
dresses, and perhaps we may have it in our 
power to produce another agreeable surprise, 
when we communicate the matter hereafter to 
Mr. Mandeville." I quite assented to what he 
said, continually expressing to him the sense I 
had of his most friendly interference. 

The next morning, when I arose, every thing 
seemed to smile around me : my father, mother, 
and sister received me, at breakfast, as though 
I had been making sacrifices to oblige them, 
rather than exacting any sacrifices on their 
part to gratify my own wishes : after break- 
fast, my father took me aside for a few minutes : 
— " Bob," says he, " I hope we never shall 
have such another dispute as we had yester- 
day ; — it is not my intention to renew it ; but, 
to satisfy my own feelings, I beg to say, that, 
sooner than have wilfully spoken with any 
contempt of Miss Mandeville, I would freely 
have renounced the gift of speech for ever. 
Whether you marry her or not, I must explicit- 
ly declare, that I most solemnly beg her par- 
don." My heart was too full to answer : — he 
told me he believed it would be necessary for 
him to go into Scotland with Mr. Hargrave, to 
see after some property, which he was con- 
vinced ought to come to him with the title he 
had inherited, and which might, probably, be 
re(!overed :— " I hope," says he, "it will do 



140 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

you no harm to be a little richer hereafter ; if I 
thouorbt it would, I would stay where I am, for 
' there is,'' as the wise king of Judah saith, *a 
sore evil which I have seen under the swn,' (and 
who indeed hath not ?) ' namely, riches kept for 
the owners thereof to their hurt.'''''' We return- 
ed to the breakfast room. 

My poor mother would, by this time, I be- 
lieve, have freely resigned all the Kilgarnock 
honours and estates, she was so thoroughly 
disturbed at the thoughts of my father's going 
into Scotland, and without her: she wished all 
the old deeds and papers that Mr. Hargrave 
had poked out of their lurking places, during 
his abode in Scotland, at the bottom of the sea, 
or, at best, like the poor compluiensian manu- 
scripts, (which never will be found again to 
settle any disputes,) sold to a Rocket-maker; 
she threw out many hints, that to go such a 
long journey upon the mere chance of recover- 
ing a disputed inheritance, when perhaps the 
very fatigues of the journey might prevent 
one's living to enjoy it, was, at best, a very 
foolish speculation : — in short, I verily think, 
that, in her own heart, she would most willing- 
ly have relinquished, not only what had already 
come to us, but every acre of the Tay-and- 
Tumble property, ay, — and the earldom itself 
into the bargain, if it could have been had. 
sooner than that my father should have slept 
one night from home ; but such a long journey 
without her was beyond every thing dreadful 
to her feelings : " inns,'''' she would say, " are 
80 different from one''s own houses, and chamber- 
maids are so careless, and there is such hazard 
of damp beds, and you may have bad weather. 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 141 

ana the A'orth is so much keener than the 
^oiilh, and it is such a horrible way off] and it 
you should be ill, who is there to nurse you, 
and how will you get back, and there's no medi- 
cal man that you have any confidence in, and 
you may be detained longer than you expect. 
and have great vexation, and not succeed after 
all, and so lose ail your labour, besides the 
expense and trouble of your journey, and ther^ 
is such robbing on the road, and those footpad 
fellows have got so desperate and cruel .'" and 
thus would she run on, enumerating such an 
endless catalogue of dreadful contingencies, 
that, for my own part, I almost wondered that 
ray father had the courage even to think of 
going ; I never, I must confess, in the course 
of my whole life, saw my mother so nearly m 
what the world calls a complete fret ; but, 
Thinks-I'to-7nyself " Honores mutant Mores ;" 
that is, [ladies,) as one of the Mores archly re- 
plied to one of the Rutland family, who had 
slandered him by an application of the Latin to 

his particular elevation,- " Honours change 

Manners^ Till my poor mother became a 
Peeress, she was the sweetest tempered wo- 
man in the world ; but this going to look after 
the Tay-and-Tunible property soured her sad- 
ly, at least for the time. 

I have no manner of doubt, now, but that the 
very calmest and most dispassionate of my 
readers is all-impatient to know how I made 
love to Emily after the unqualified permission 
I had received from //i?/ Lord and Lady Kil- 
garnock so to do : bu.t, really and truly, making 
love is such a ridiculous business, especially 
where one is actually in earnest, that, aftei 



142 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

writing it all out at length, fact after fact, just 
as it happened, taking up near forty or fifty 
pages, I have determined to strike it all out 
again, and not let you know a word about it ; 
besides, it was all managed so out of the com- 
mon course of things, that I don't like any 
body else should learn my way of conducting 
those matters ; for, if a clodpale could succeed 
so well with it, what would the artful and de- 
signing make of it ? I think I have done very 
handsomely to let you know so much about my 
bumpings, while the matter hung in suspense ; 
I do not believe one lover out of a hundred 
would so plainly have confessed to you what 
odd feelings love produces. — I have no objec- 
tion to tell you how it was all discovered to 
Mr. and Mrs. Mande villa, but first I must ad- 
vert to other things. 

Mrs. and Miss Twist were for ever calling, 
you may be sure, after the arrival of the title, 
not to ask where it came from, so much as to 
take care where it should go to : and I think it 
would have done any body's heart good to 
have heard how Mrs. Twist did beladyship my 
poor mother : the Honourable Bob had now re- 
ceived full permission to be as little in this par- 
ticular company as his BobsJiip, in his discre- 
tion, should choose ; so that, as far as the com- 
mon rules of civility would admit, I generally 
got out of their way : I had, to the best of my 
abilities, so invariably slighted, rather than en- 
couraged, the ddvances of both mother and 
daughter, that I felt no hesitation about the 
conduct I was pursuing : sundry engagements 
were proposed, but all in vain : my mother in- 
deed hai» a fair excuse for declining them 



THl^'KS-l-TO-MYSELF. 143 

while my father's journey to Scotland was in 
iigitation. 

In the mean time, my visits to the Vicarage 
were frequent ; how frequent I won't tell you, 
for, if I should, you will find out how long I 
was in gaining Emily^s heart, which is a thing 
i don't want any body to know ; for, if it should 
seem to have been a very long job, you will 
think /was dull and stupid ; and if it should 
turn out to have been a very short job, people 
that don't know my dear Emily may fancy she 
was too willing and forward : however, I believe 
[ promised to teli you how the whole business 
ivas made known to Mr. and Mrs. Mandeville, 
iud so now you shall have it. 

One day in the month of February, [not far 
from the fourteenth,) Mr. Hargrave and myseli 
called at the Vicarage, and found upon the ta- 
ble a heap of 'painted Valentines, which had 
been given to the young folks to send to their 
cousins, &c. — They were covered, as you may 
well suppose, with hearts, and darts, and Cu- 
vids, and true-lovers^ -knots, and, spite of one's 
teeth, brought love into one's mind : Mr. Har- 
grave had much to say upon the subject, and 
filled up many of the papers for them with 
abundance of ludicrous verses, all in the true 
cant ''style of those elegant compositions, such 
as, 

" Haste, my Love, and come away ; 
This is Hymen's holiday." 



" 'Tis yours this present to improve , 
Its wonh depends on you ; 

A trifle if you do not love, 
A treasure if vou do." 



144 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

Which, by the bye, is almost pretty enoug-h to 
send to any body, though it has been so hacked 
about ; but this don't signify ; I had got no- 
thing but Valentine and love in my head when 
I cams away from the house, but, as / never had 
a spark of fun in me, I could do nothing but 
write very gravely upon it. On the morning of 
the fourteenth I found means (mind, I don't 
tell you how, but 1 found means I say) to have 
the following lines laid upon Emily's pillow : 
if any body should say, close to her damask 
cheek, I can't help it : as I had a pretty knack 
at drawing, I ornamented it with a rich wreath 
of roses, entwined with certain other JluivcrSj 
famed for their close connexion with such ex- 
ploits, such as love and idleness, hearths ease, 
ladder to heaven, lords and ladies, love in a mist, 
none so pretty, true love of Canada, and bache- 
ior''s buttons ;— I would have every body begin 
to cry, the lines are so truly pathetic : if they 
don't serve to convince you that I was sincere- 
ly and deeply in love, you have no feeling at 
all ; you are a block of marble, and have no 
business to read them. 

I dare say you'll think they'll never come ;-— 
well, here they are then : — 

What is a Valentine ? — Amelia ' — say j 
Is it a loiter of a single day 1 
Is it a trifler, who w'MhJiaine and dart. 
Of painted paper, seeks to win your heart 1 
Is it the favourite of a nvyniing glance, 
Met with by accident, and seen by chance ? 
If so, / am not one to serve your tun> ; 
With no false flames or ardour do / bum! 
In no fciilious sorrows do / deal, 
It is no plaijihing passion that I feel ' 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 145 

Device I've nonC; my lenderness to prove 3 

Without Device, in sober irulli, /love ! 

In short, though much I wish that I were tJiine, 

I cannot wish to be your Valentine : 

To love and be beloved for one short daij ! 

I will be YOURS /or ever! — if I may ! — 

Now, let the verses be bad or good, it plainly 
amounts to a regular offer ; I don't believe that 
any of the lines are an inch too long or too 
short ; but, if they were, it would be wicked 
to alter them, for they are really genuine ; they 
came, besides, from the heart, not the head, 
and the heart won't be put out of its way by 
your dactyles and spondees ; — besides, it did 
the husiness, and that's enough ; for. as soon as 
ever the breakfast at the Vicarage was over, 
up comes Mr. Mandeville again, not to 7ne, but 
to Mr. Hargrave. 

"Mr. Hargrave," says he, "I viust desire 
that you will, as soon as possible, interfere to 
put an end to these things. It is not long 
since I endeavoured, myself, to hint, as plainly 
as I could, to Mr. Dermont., that I could not suffer 
my daughter to receive any attention from him 
beyond such as might pass between two old 
play-mates : I trust it is an act of indiscretion 
only, and therefore I beg of you, peremptorily, 
to put. a stop to it ; — Emily is a good girl, and 
[ do^j't like that she should be made to fall intD 
a mistake that may be fatal to her happiness ; 
— she is very young, and cannot be supposed 
to know, so well as I do, how impossible it is 
that she should ever become the wife of Mr. 
Dermont ; — it is my business, therefore, io pro- 
tect her ; — I beg you will return this copy of 
verses to Mr. JDermont. and tell him how sorry 
13 



14G THINK S-I-TO-MYSELF. 

I should be to forbid him coming to a house, 
which, on every other account, ought to be 
most open to him. Mrs. Mandeville is quite as 
much distressed about it as myself, and there- 
fore it must be put an end to." — " I will cer- 
tainly do it," says Mr. Hargrave, " if you de- 
sire it ;" — " I do desire it most earnestly,''^ says 
Mr. Mandeville ; " 07ily put yourself in my 
situation, Mr. Hargrave, and I am sure you 
will see the propriety of my conduct :" — " My 
dear sir," says Mr. Hargrave, " you have fallen 
upon the only difficulty that embarrasses me ; 
I do put myself in your situation so completely 
that I scarce know why I am to act as you tell 
me. Being of the same profession, I must 
have some feelings in common with you, of 
course. I am not married, to be sure, nor am 
I a father ; but, upon such an occasion, I can- 
not help fancying that I am both ; — and there- 
fore, though I promise to do what you desire, 
if you urge it, yet I confess that I think Mr. 
Dermont is almost old enough to judge for 
himself, and, I hope, wise enough to judge dis- 
creetly, even in a concern where many cer- 
tainly do blunder and mistake ; — I feel for him, 
certainly, but I can feel for others too ; and I 
will frankly declare, that, if / were the father 
of a daughter as beautiful, and [ivhat is ten 
thousand times more) as virtuous, and as well 
brought up, as yours, I should think her worthy 
of the greatest man in the realm, if he chose to 
fix his affections upon her :" — " This may all 
appear very kind, Mr. Hargrave," says Mr, 
Mandeville, " and very complimentary, but 1 
am not such an idiot as to fancy we live in a 
golden age ; — when virtue and goodness are to 



THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 147 

be reckoned of so great account as wealth or 
family ; — if you will produce me a single in 
stance of a poor, but very virtuous woman, oi 
of a poor, but very worthy man, without great 
connexions, being very cordially received into 
any noble family, then I should be more easy ; 
because I have no hesitation in saying, that I 
firmly believe that, if any individuals of the 
nobility are capable of such true greatness, 
Lord and Lady Kilgarnock are the very per- 
sons ; — but, since the current of things, in ge- 
neral, is so contrary, I will not do them so great 
an unkindness as to expect it of them ; — I had 
rather run no risk ; — I wish Mr. Dermont hap- 
py, but I will not have my daughter exposed 
to the chance of being rejected, besides other 
disappointments." 

" Lord Kilgarnock," says Mr. Hargrave, " has 
really a high opinion of your daughter, Mr. 
Mandeville ;"— " Sir," says Mr. Mandeville, 
"it cannot be otherwise, if he knew her only 
half so well as / do ; but Lord Kilgarnock 
knows better than to choose her for a ivife for 
his son .'" — " I see," says Mr. Hargrave, " it is 
vain to argue the matter with you, Mr. Man- 
deville, and that I must really be under the 
necessity of returning this paper to Mr. 
Dermont, though I know I shall run the risk 
of disturbing him greatly in doing so ;" — " If, 
sir," says Mr. Markdeville, (with much warmth, i 
^you are so afraid of disturbing his feelings, 
give it back to me, and / will put it into his 
own hands, to be sure of it :" — " You mistake 
me, sir," says Mr. Hargrave ; " I think Mr. 
Dermont is really and sincerely attached to 
your daughter, and that this paper contains no 



148 THINKS 1-TO-MYSELF. 

ttntruthf — "Then, Mr. Hargrave," says Mr. 
Mandeville, " if that be so, it behoves you the 
more to interpose, to save your pupil from a 
disappointment, as well as my child from whdX 
may be still worse :"— " I see, sir," says Mr, 
Hargrave, " you are getting extremely warm, 
and I will argue with you no longer ; — ^I can 
only say, / will not return this paper to Mi\ 
Dermont ;■ — he sent it to Miss Mandeville, and 
it is therefore hers : — but you tell me, Mr. Man- 
deville, that Mis. Mandeville suffers much about 
it ; pray then, sir, present my compliments toher, 
and teWher, that, \i she can but bring herself to 
consent to its being a match, / have fully secured 
that o^Lord and Lady Kilgarnock ; — you asked 
me, Mr. Mandeville, to produce but one in- 
stance of a poor (I mean unendowed) but vir- 
tuous young woman, without high connexions, 
being cordially received into a noble family, 
and I now produce one : — Lord and Lady Kil- 
garnock, so far from being averse from this 
match, would 'resent nothing more than to be 
thought insensible of Miss Mandeville'' s worth ; 
— you are now caught in your own trap ; — you 
cannot now refuse to return this paper to Miss 
Mandeville ; I think she values it ; — ^if she real- 
ly does not, then / will projmse you to take it 
hack ; but, if she does, the business is settled,, 
and I am proud and happy to tell you so," — ■ 
Mr. Mandeville was greatly surprised, and not 
very capable of answering, which Mr. Har- 
grave perceiving, — " I wish," says he, " yoo 
would let me call upon you this evening, and I 
will talk to you more upon the subject : — at 
present, only deliver my message to Mrs. Man- 
deville.^^ — So saying, (as be told me himself,! 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 149 

he almost pushed Mr. Mandeviile out of tho 
house. — In the evening he took care to go 
there in good time, and every thing was settled. 
— The next morning, as soon as my mother 
knew what had passed, she drove to the Vi- 
carage, and had a long conversation with Mrs. 
Mandeviile, much to the satisfaction, I verily 
believe, of all parties. 

But, as it was now almost necessary to make 
the matter known, for fear the Twists should 
bewilder themselves too much, it became a 
great debate among us how it should be made 
known, particularly and immediately, as it were, 
to them : after various debates about it, in 
which my father proposed about ten different 
expedients, my mother, sister, and myself, 
probably, as many, severally and respectively, 
we ventured to xnention it to Mr. Hargrave ; 
'* My stars !" says he, '• how can you have any 
difficulty about it ? I'll manage it directly I" so 
he took his hat, and went straight to Mrs. Fid- 
get ; he pretended to be merely paying one of 
those delightful debts called a morning visit, — 
and in the course of conversation, as it were, in- 
troduced the subject, as follows: "I suppose 
you have heard the report that is about the coun- 
try," — " Report of what ?" says Mrs. Fidget : 
" I am sorry for poor Miss Twist," says he ; 
^^Miss Twist," says Mrs. Fidget, " what of 
her V — " Upon my word," says Mr. Hargrave, 
" I ought not to have mentioned her name ; I 
cannot think how I came to mention it, — pray 
don't say a word about Miss Twist, only I 
thought it might concern her ;" — " What might 
concern her ?" says Mrs. Fidget. " The re- 
port, I mean," says Mr. Hargrave : " What re- 
13* 



V50 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

portT^ says Mrs. Fidget. " Why^ that Mr. 
Robert Dermont is going to marry Miss Man- 
deville ;" — " Miss Mandevilh ! I .'" exclaimed 
Mrs. Fidget, and, as I am told, she lifted up 
her eyes and her hands so high that they had 
like to have stuck there, and never come down 
again ; " Miss Mandeville ! ! !" she repeated ; 
" Yes, Miss Mandeville,'''' says Mr. Hargrave.; 
"bat pray dori'i tell the Tiinsts :''—'' JVot /," 
says Mrs. Fidget ; " / would not tell them, for the 
world ;" — " No, pray don't tell them" says Mr. 
Hargrave ; "• I quite dread their hearing of it ; 
it would be quite cruel and unkind to acquaint 
them with it at all abroptly, for I am confident 
they thoroughly expected him to marry Miss 
Twist ,•" — " Made quite certain of it, you may 
depend upon it," says Mrs. Fidget, with no 
small agitation ; " Therefore^ says Mr. Har- 
grave, " they will, I fear, be sadly disappointed, 
and I should be sorry to be the first person to 
have even to hint it to them :" — " To be sure," 
says Mrs. Fidget, " theij will he finely disap- 
pointed indeed ! I can't g«ess how they'll bear 
it ; 1 pity those who will have to communicate 
it to them first, especially to JIfr*. Twist, whose 
temper [between friends) is not the most go- 
vernable one in the world ; how she will con- 
duct herself upon the occasion I have no idea.'' 
" I suppose, however, it won't be long," says 
Mr. Hargrave, " before they do hear of it ; for, 
though you and / could not find a heart to tell 
them, Mrs. Fidget, yet, I dare say, you know 
there are kind neighbours enough to be found, 
who will communicate it in all its circumstances 
as soon as they hear it." — " True, indeed," says 
Mrs. Fidget ; " a secret of that nature is not 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. J 51 

long in travelling round a neighhourhood." 
But she now began to be so restless, and so 
incapable of sitting still any longer, that Mr. 
Hargrave prepared to take his leave : " Pray 
remember," says he, " my dear Madam, not to 
say a word about it to the Tivists." Mrs. Fid- 
get called for her cloak : " Pray let us, at least, 
keep the secret from them as long as we can." 
Mrs. Fidget was very impatient for her bonnet 
and gloves : " I should not, however, wonder if 
they knew it by this time," says Mr. Hargrave, 
as he was parting from her, which so quicken- 
ed the valedictions of Mrs. Fidget, that, had 
she abruptly turned him out of the house, she 
could not well have more visibly shown hov/ 
much she wished him to be gone : at last they 
separated ; but scarcely had Mr. Hargrave 
reached the first stile, when, upon turning 
round, (not altogether by accident, and unde- 
signedly, but through a certain presentiment 
which the reader probably anticipates,) he saw 
Mrs. Fidget walking very much quicker than 
usual, and much beyond her natural strength, 
in the direction, as straight as a line could be 
drawn, towards JVicotium Castle, where she 
arrived, ready to drop, just about the time that 
Mr. Hargrave returned to the Hall. 

From the report that she very soon after- 
wards made of her visit, (for, when done, no- 
thing could exceed her care to have it univer- 
sally known that she was the very identical 
person th^aX first told the Twists ihe secret that 
so nearly touched them,) from her report, I 
say, it appeared that Miss Twist seemed little 
affected by it, but that Mrs. Twist had so little 
command of herself, that the moment she heard 



152 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

it she exclaimed, with something very like an 
oath,—" Then, Ma'am, if it be so, Mr. Der- 
mont richly deserves to be hanged 1" Thinks- 
I-to-myself, when I heard it, no doubt, quite as 
much as Tom Dash himself, who shot the fa- 
ther of nine children for refusing to drink a 
profane toast ! however, the fact really was, — 
that Mrs. Twist undoubtedly felt, in her own 
mind, that / thoroughly did deserve to be 
hanged : not that she had a word more to al- 
lege against me (though all her neighbours, of 
course, were inquiring about it from morning 
to night) beyond her own fancies and suspi- 
cions. "What! did not he make a formal 
offer to her ?" says one. " Didn't he make her 
a solemn promise ?" says another. " Didn't he 
apply for a special license.^" says a third. 
"Were not the wedding clothes ordered.?" 
says a fourth. " No, indeed," says Mrs. Twist, 
" he made wo offer, no promise, he applied for 
no license, he ordered no clothes, but yet he 
richly deserves to be hanged for all that; 
though, indeed, (she would generally add,) I 
am by 710 means sure that Mr. Twist would 
have allowed him to marry our daughter, if he 
had made an offer ; for he is but a mean-look- 
ing youth after all, though he is to be a lord, 
and his title, when it comes to him, is but a 
Scotch one, and of the lowest degree of all, as 
I have been told, and Mr. Twist, I know, is 
resolved, in his own mind, never to let Grizilda 
marry below such a Lord as will make our 
grand-daughters ladies /" 

" I wonder," says Mrs. Fidget, (I heard this 
from another of her neighbours, who promised 
not to say a word about it,) " I wonder," says 



THL\KS-l-TO-MYSELF. 153 

she, "Mrs. Twist, that you can call him 'a 
mean looking youth ;' / have always particular- 
ly thought, myself, that, independent of his title, 
his person and talents were quite sufficient to 
recommend him to any young woman, rich or 
poor, noble or ignoble : besides, the estates 
are so contiguous, that no match could have 
been so suitable and desirable, it must be con- 
fessed : and, as for his barony, he might easily, 
with such a fortune as they would have had 
together, have been made an Earl, or a Mar- 
quis, or perhaps a Buke 1 Who knows ? 1 was 
sadly afraid it would vex you, and therefore 
was very loath to come and tell you ; only I 
thought you would rather hear it first from a 
friend, than from any more indifferent person ; 
if it were at all a doubtful matter, if there 
were still the least chance of his marrying your 
daughter, I should have waited patiently, and 
on no account have run the risk of disturbing 
your feelings unnecessarily ; but I had it from 
the very first authority, from Mr. Hargrave 
himself, indeed, who came to me so full of it, 
and seemed to pity poor Miss Twist so much, 
that he could talk of nothing else all the while 
he was with me." 

" Pity poor Miss Tivist, indeed," says Mrs. 
Twist I ! ! " I rfo beg and entreat that he will 
keep his pity to himself; pity Miss Twist! 
pity our daughter ! ! pity the heiress of these 
wide domains, because she is not to marry a 
poor Scotch baron ! ! poor I may well call him, 
for I am told he gets nothing with his title but 
his great grandfather's picture and a family 
watch ; pity poor Miss Twist, indeed ! ! I won- 
der, Mrs. Fidget, you could suffer such a low 



154 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

fellow to talk so in your presence." — " Indeed, 
my dear madam," rejoins Mrs. Fidget, " I did 
not feel inclined to stop him, because he seemed 
truly and most sincerely to feel for the cruel 
disappointment your daughter (as he thought) 
was about to suffer ; else, indeed, I should have 
thought it impertinent, as yoa say, for such a 
low man to have pretended to pity your daugh- 
ter : for, though I believe him to be a good 
man in his way, every body knows, undoubted- 
ly, that some of his ancestors were no better 
than dealers in drugs, that is, in snuff or tobac- 
co, or some such filth !" 

Thus did these two amiable ladies, as I am 
informed, conduct themselves towards each 
other, upon this memorable occasion. Mrs. 
Fidget never rested talking about it till it was 
known all over the country ; and the more 
Mrs. Twist scorned to be pitied, the more Mrs. 
Fidget insisted upon feeling for her. 

Miss Mandeville was now a frequent guest 
at the Hall, and my father and mother seemed 
to get every day more fond of her. Captain 
Charleville was also continually with us, so 
that we made a large family party. My fa- 
ther's journey to Scotland, however, seemed to 
become every day more inevitable, so that my 
poor mother was very low, and little capable 
of enjoying herself so much as would other- 
wise have been the case. 

Mr. Twist appeared to be too much engross- 
ed with his dogs and liorses to care much 
about the business. On one account he was 
rather glad than sorry at the course of things ; 
namely, because it produced a greater shyness 
than ever between his familv and the Mande- 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 155 

villes, so as to render it highly reasonable^ in 
his opinion, that he should totally and entirely 
give up going to church, which he had certain- 
ly never done hitherto, except as a sort of com- 
j)liment and condescension to the family at the 
Vicarage ; he now easily determined, in his 
own mind, that his visits there might be alto- 
gether dispensed with, and that henceforth, 
without the smallest let or hinderance, Sunday 
might be quite as much his own as any other 
day in the week : — this gave him great con- 
tent : — " Bob Dermont may have all the ser- 
monizing and psalm-singing to himself, no?,y," 
says he, " for me ; I'll let him my whole pew 
for sixpence a year, and give him all the 
prayer-books and hassocks into the bargain ; — 
they are none of your old, rotten, indented, 
wormeaten commodities, I promise you ; but all 
as good as new, though they have been there 
these ten years ; knee never touched one of 
them yet, to the best of my knowledge, saving 
and excepting, perhaps. Saint Watson^s ;" — 
(meaning the Governess :) and I fancy, indeed, 
Mr. Twist was perfectly correct ; for the truth 
is, they generally .sat close up in the different 
corners of the pew, engaged in reading novels, 
sleeping, or making fun of all. that was going 
forward ; I must say, however, they had the 
decency to sit up so close in the corners, that 
nobody could see what they were about ; nei- 
ther the parson, nor the clerk, nor the church- 
wardens, nor the sexton, nor one of the singeis, 
nor any of the people up in the gallery ; in 
fact, only God Almighty ! I ! Thinks- I-to-viy- 
self, possibly. He saw them all the while ; in 
the church, and out of the church, most likely ; 



l.% TMINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

in the comers of said pew, as much as in the 
very middle of it I 

Twist's common practice was, to keep Sun- 
day for travelling. Tlie road on that day, he 
would say, was so unencumbered with carts 
and ivaggons, that he was determined never to 
jourjiey on any other day in the week but that, 
if he could possibly help it ; and surely he was 
ri^ht ; for, certainly, waggons and carts, with 
the dust they make in summer, and the splash- 
ing they make in winter, and the certainty 
of being always in the way, whether you me-et 
them or come behind them, are most intolera- 
ble nuisances ; you may say what you will of 
their utility in carrying corn, or hay, or turjiips, 
or carrots, into the metropolis, or bringing ma- 
nure out of it; but it cannot be denied, that, 
to such travellers as Twist, they are shocking 
impediments : and I must take upon me to say, 
that any nobleman or gentleman, who is as rich 
as Twist, and has as much command of his 
time, and as much courage, cannot do better 
than adopt his plan : double turnpikes need not 
stop such travellers : I confess, I know nothing 
that can render it at all objectionable, except 
the FOURTH C03iMAM)j:Ers-T : that, I very well 
know, bids us to "keep holy the Sabbath day," 
and not only to do noiiiinner of work in it our- 
selves, but not to let our sons, or our daughters, 
or our man-servants, or maid-servants, do any : 
no, nor our cattle, or even tlie stranger that hap- 
pens to be witliin our gales ; but, since travelling 
implies, in the very definition of the word, a 
quitting of home, and, of course, all the relations 
above enumerated, whether the commandment 
r.iin possibly be intended to prevent our compel- 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 157 

Cing, or bribing, or seducing other peopWs sons 
and daughters, men-servants and maid-servants, 
cattle, and strangers, to work on the Sabbath 
day, to do any manner of work that the rich 
may choose to call upon them to do, I leave to 
be settled and determined by all those who 
may wish and desire to avail themselves of the 
convenience of an unencmnbered road. I con- 
fess, I have often considered the point myself, 
and shall candidly confess, that I think not! 
indeed, I am so much persuaded of this, that, 
rich as I now am, I actually never dare to 
travel on a Sunday, except in a case of absolute 
and indispensable necessity ; — so far, I must con- 
fess, our neighbour Tv;ist was a man of more 
spirit and resolution than either my father or my- 
self; — he did not seem to care a fig for the fourth 
commandment, and therefore stood upon no sort 
of ceremony about violating it, not only by en- 
couraging and promoting all the unhallowed 
work I speak of, robbing and depriving men, 
cattle, and strangers, of the rest God would 
have given them, but by keeping the Sabbath 
as UN-holy as he could keep it, and tempting 
and forcing others continually to do the same. 
There was another thing of which Twist 
was exceedingly fond : — I mean betting upon 
all sorts of events : — I have already mentioned 

his bet with Lord , on Bob Gubbins and 

Big Beelzebub : — if any body had but offered 
him the wager, he would have betted, I make 
no doubt, that he would find " a cameV' that 
would "go through the eye of a needle ;" — and 
indeed I wonder, that, among the many bets 
sought out and invented by the spoi'ting and 
gambling speculators of the day, this has never 
14 



J 58 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

been attempted ; — for, should it ever be attend- 
ed with success, (the torture and agonies of the 
squeezed camel need never stand in the way!) 
it would seem to follow, as a matter of course, 
that it would be quite as feasible for such sort 
of " Hc^" fellows as Twist and his associates to 
get to heaven ; which, I am afraid, will con- 
tinue as problematical as ever, if things happen 
to proceed just as they now do. 

Of matches against time, also, (as they are 
called,) Twist was equally fond. — Now these 
are, comparatively, well enough ; — because, 
though perhaps in the course of every year a 
number of useful and innocent animals may get 
harassed and tormented out of their lives, yet 
there is no difficulty in determining who loins 
and who loses ; — but matches against eterni- 
ty (by which I understand all matches, that 
may, on account of the cruelty , projligacy, or fol- 
ly, attending them, be taken account of HEKii- 
after) are certainly very silly; because, for 
what we can ever know in this mortal stage 
of our lives, the greatest ivinner may be the 
greatest loser after all ! Twist, himself, abso- 
lutely killed two beautiful {a.nd favourite) po- 
nies at this very work, and yet he thought he 
won ; — but, Thinks-I-to-myself, perhaps, after 
all, he lost ; for " the race is not always to the 
sivift :" — " there is a time to get, and a time to 
lose ;" — " the merciful man doeth good to his 
own soul, but he that is cruel trouble th his 
own flesh." 

I am willing, however, to hope and believe, 
that Twist was not, in his heart, a professed 
gambler. " A certain degree of self-delusion 
hid from his view both the profligacy and dan- 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 159 

ger of most of his occupations and pursuits ; 
but I am rather anxious to record it of him, 
that he was not, as I said before, a professed ■ 
gamester. He would take a bet when offered, 
and he would play with those who were accus- 
tomed to play ; but he did not go out of his 
way to seduce the young and unsuspecting ; to 
take advantage of the ignorant and unskilful ; 
he did not go the length of wantonly making 
havoc of the peace of families — " wringing the 
heart of the fond wife, the helpless orphan, 
the aged parent, by effecting the rapid and in- 
stantaneous ruin of those to whom they looked 
for support and comfort." He was not such a 
VILLAIN as THIS amouuts to. I have, on the 
contrary, more than once heard him declare, 
that he would go far to save any youth from 
the snares that are laid for them at a gaming- 
table, and to prevent their taking the Jirst step 
into that gulf of horror and despair. A pro- 
fessed and systematic gambler he ever regard- 
ed as a wretch too base to be entitled to the 
common rights and privileges of society ; he 
knew, indeed, much of their disgraceful and 
pernicious habits and practices, having him- 
self nearly fallen a victim to their treacherous, 
seductive, and base arts in his early days ; a 
circumstance which always appeared to have 
made a particular impression on his mind, and 
which, though it had not the happy effect of 
turning him away entirely from such irrational 
and hazardous pursuits, yet made him occa- 
sionally feel, and even tremble, for others, who 
were not in the way to know (what he knew) 
of the hai'barous deceptions, low cunning, and 
base designs of habitual gamesters, and how 



160 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

liable the young, the ignorant, and the unwary 
are to be drawn into that cad vortex of dissi- 
pation and ruin. What a pity that he could 
not have gone a few steps farther, and seen 
the folly and corrupt tendency of his own 
mode of life, and that of most of his associates ; 
for had example may, and often does, as effec- 
tually and as fatally take the young and un- 
wary by surprise, as the most premeditated de- 
sign, or the most studied dissimulation. 

My father and Mr. Hargrave were now very 
soon to set off for Scotland, to the great con- 
cern and regret of all the party : — no little boy, 
going to school for the first time, could have 
had more admonitions given him, by his mo- 
ther, than my father received from mine, as 
the time for his departure approached ; I had 
had a spice of the same myself, when I went 
into the same remote country ; — numberless 
were the expedients, endeavoured to be im- 
pressed upon his memory, how to ascertain to 
a certainty, at every inn, whether the bedding 
or sheets Avere damp ; — purses were regularly 
and systematically made up for highwaymen, 
for fear he should get shot, through any delay 
in the delivery of what they might be pleased 
to ask for ; — and the strongest entreaties were 
made use of to prevent his ever attempting to 
defend himself, in case he should be attacked, 
for fear it might be misconstrued into ivilful re- 
sistance ; — with a view to which, his pistols, 
which had been ordered to be got ready, were 
put back again a thousand times, my mother 
never being able to settle, in her ov/n mind, 
whether, in such rencontres, the defence or ex- 
posure of one's person were most secure. 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. ICl 

But the -medicine chest, with which he was 
provided, was the most curious. My father 
hated physic, — as well the use as the taste of 
it ; — he generally enjoyed an excellent state 
of health, and scarce knew the name of one of 
the diseases with which the bulk of mankind 
are tormented ; — but the medicine chest, which 
my mother's extreme care and anxiety had in- 
duced her to prepare for the occasion, would 
have led any one to think he was subject to all 
the maladies under the sun : as the gout had 
once been in his family, according to tradition, 
there was one whole compartment filled with 
medicines to cure that complaint, in case he 
should have it, and another with medicines to 
bring the gout, in case he should seem to want 
it, and have it not ;— r^there was laudanum to 
put him to sleep, and emetics and stimulants to 
relieve and awaken him, in case he should hap- 
pen to take too much, and sleep too long ; there 
was abundance of nostrums to keep off infec- 
tion, and just as many to cure it, in case it 
could not be kept off; many cooling prepara- 
tions were added, for fear he should ever be 
over-heated, and the like proportion of cordials, 
and carminatives, in case he should ever suffer 
from cold ; — every powder, and packet, and 
bottle, and box, besides, being regularly la- 
belled, and marked inside and out, in a hand 
the most legible, for fear of any perplexity or 
mistake in the administration of the several 
remedies, — but my mother was not like other 
mothers or other wives ; such maternal and 
conjugal feelings as hers are now so out of 
vogue, that I expect no credit for what I have 
related ; — yet so it was. At last the day 
14=^ 



162 THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

came for their departure, and the heart-break- 
ing separation took place. 

Mrs. Mandeville was a great comfort to my 
mother during- my father's absence, the more 
so, undoubtedly, from the new situation in 
which they stood connected with each other ; 
— ^but she was certainly a most sensible and 
amiable woman, very different from most of 
our other neighbours. 

In the mean while, Mrs. Fidget did all she 
could to set us against the Twists, as she had 
previously done all she could to set them 
against us : and this upon the avowed pre- 
tence of being the particular friend of both 
parties : — whatever Mrs. Twist, in her disap- 
pointment, happened to utter against us, Mrs. 
Fidget, out of her extreme friendship and re- 
gard, took care to repeat at Grumblethorpe as 
quick as she could ; and every thing she saw 
passing at Grumblethorpe, that she thought 
could at all tend to revive or aggravate Mrs. 
Twist's disappointment, she was just as care- 
ful to make known as speedily as possible at 
Nicotium Castle : — " I suppose you have heard 
what Mrs. Twist says," was the general bent 
of her conversation with us, and, " What a 
deal of love-making there is at the Hall," her 
continual remark at Nicotium Castle. 

I cannot help mentioning these things, be- 
cause this sort of character is so extremely 
rare and uncommon : in the whole circle of 
your acquaintance, gentle reader, in town or 
country, in public or in private, 1 don't sup- 
pose you ever met with such a woraan as Mrs. 
Fidget ! her delight was to go from one house 
to another among her neighbours, purposely 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. ]()3 

to report, and communicate, at each, whatever 
she knew to be most likely to occasion distress 
and vexation ; and, if there were a chance of 
any shyness or open rupture between any two 
parties ensuing from it, so much the better for 
Mrs. Fidget. There was nothing too bad for 
her thus to convey from one neighbour to ano- 
ther. The worse, indeed, it was, so much the 
better for her : she seemed, indeed, to be con- 
stantly making experiments how far one per- 
son could bear to be told that another person 
thought her a. fool, or a devil, or old, or ugly, or 
mad, or proud, or peevish, or covetous, or artful, 
or hypocritical : though she was careful enough 
to varnish over the communication of any such 
pleasant piece of news with a certain affected 
laugh, which, though it might be intended to 
express her particular (foseni, said, as plainly 
as possible, — '-'•Jlnd sure enough I think it true .'" 

It was thus, in this light, airy sort of way, 
that is, that I was first made acquainted with 
the reflection cast upon my Honourable person 
by Mrs. Twist, and to which I have before al- 
luded : — " I suppose you know, Mr. Dermont," 
says she, " what Mrs. Twist cn.lls you ; — I sup- 
pose you know that she thinks you a '■mean- 
looking youth f ha, ha, ha, he, he, he, — a mean- 
looking youth, indeed ! and ^poor into the bar- 
gain ;' — she says, ' you are to get nothing with 
your title but your great grandfather's por 
trait and a family watch ;' — but did you hear 
what she says of Miss Mandeville, too ? — she 
says, she looks, for all the world, like a lump of 
snow ; or a rice- dumpling, without any sweet- 
meat hi it ; ha, ha, ha," &c. 

I could mention a hundred other things to 



164 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

the same effect, in which the malice and ill- 
nature of this neighbourly friend, and friendly 
neighbour, were equally conspicuous ; hut, real- 
ly, such a character is so very outrd, so entirely 
out of the common course of things, so perfect- 
ly contrary to one's ordinary experience of the 
ways of the luorld, that I could not expect to be 
credited on my bare word, nay, surely not on 
my oath : — Who could possibly believe me, if 
I were to assert it ever so much, that Mrs. 
Fidget, after trying all she could to set us 
against Mrs. Twist, could take the trouble of 
going expressly to Nicotium Castle merely to 
tell the latter how much she was surprised and 
grieved to find that she (Mrs. Twist) was not so 
great a favourite at Grumblethorpe Hall as 
heretofore ! I say, gentle reader, could you, 
from your knowledge of the world, and experi- 
ence of human conduct, ever believe that any 
such malicious creature as Mrs. Fidget could 
exist ? and yet I declare I knov/ this to be the 
fact ; nay, and that she would have been very 
much hurt if any body had been beforehand 
with her ; that is, had got the start of her in 
communicating this friendly and most agreeable 
piece of intelligence. 

Three days after my father had quitted 
us, my poor mother was made superlatively 
happy by receiving a letter from him to in- 
form her, that he believed he should not 
have occasion to go farther than London, 
for that his lawyer had had a letter from 
the parties in Scotland, to say, that, in con- 
sequence of the information communicated to 
them, they should not attempt to contest the 
point ; that the documents that had been dis- 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 165 

covered were, in all likelihood, too clear to be 
set aside, and therefore that they were willing 
to have it settled by reference to counsel in 
London. The case was accordingly submitted 
to certain persons of the greatest eminence in 
Westminster Hall, and speedily determined, 
without a dissentient voice, in our favour. — In 
less than a fortnight, therefore, my father re- 
turned 10,000^. per annum richer than when 
he went from us. 

It was well bestowed ; for he was a most 
munificent, benevolent, charitable man : if a 
fellow-creature stood in need of assistance, his 
purse was open ; he gave freely to the grateful 
and the ungrateful ; for, I am sorry to say, there 
were many of the latter among those he benefit- 
ed : — the poor, in general, were extremely 
unthankful : — they would receive his bounty ; 
courtesy, and bow, and thank him when they 
met him, but always covet more, and do him 
damage without compunction or remorse : — he 
knew it as well as I do ; but still he would give ; 
for, he would say, they know no better ; they 
have not been educated as we have been : — 
give, and it shall be given you again ; — if 
not by those you serve, yet by God Almighty, 
which is far better security. 

It will be easily supposed that, occasionally, 
we had among ourselves much conversation 
and consultation about the approaching nup- 
tials, both of myself and my sister : — all which 
being matter of mere private concern and ar- 
rangement, I certainly need not trouble the read- 
er with it : — there were many other things also 
to be thought of; — I was not far now from being 
of age ; — don't stare, gentle reader ; — I say I 



166 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

was now nearly of age: — " Tempus fugit" you 
know ; or, in plain English, Time flies ! you may 
think what you please about the length of time 
most accordant with the order of events, as they 
seem to stand in this narrative, but I am almost 
positive, that I must have been nearly of age, 
or, if not, that there is no great harm done by 
pretending to be so : — you will remember that 
I have never once told you how old I was at 
the beginning of this book, when Mrs. Fidget 
and the pug-dogs paid their ^r^i visit at Grum- 
hlethorpe-Hall, so that of course you don't know 
how old I was when I went to Scotland : nor 
can you tell exactly how long I was upon the 
road thither, taking in the excursion to the 
Lakes; then I remained in Scotland, if you re- 
collect, full two years, as I took particular care 
to tell you, and returned from Scotland rather 
slowly : then, as to the time expended in mak- 
ing love to Emily, after I had permission to do 
so, its exact duration has been purposely kept 
secret from you, so that I am well assured 
that, let your critical acumen be what it may, 
you have no fair right to dispute my being now 
nearly of age. 

As a most amazing entertainment was in- 
tended to be given at the era of this joyous 
event, my father conceived that it would be 
well, if possible, to bring the two jubilees to- 
gether ; or, as Mrs. Fidget would say, to " kill 
two or three birds with one stone ;" that is, 
that I should be married about that time ; 
either a little before, or a little after ; — and, if 
Captain Charleville and my sister should 
choose to avail themselves of the same oppor- 
tunity, they were M^elcome to do it ; — thus the 



THINK S-I-TO-MY SELF. 167 

whole business might rather resemble the rich 
Camadio^s wedding in Don Qtdxotte, where 
Sancho Panza ladled up, if you remember, 
whole ducks, and chickens, and sucking pigs at 
every dip into the pot! and now I speak of 
Sancho Panza, my heart almost aches to think 
I could not invite him to my wedding ; — how 
delighted I should have been to have seen him 
there ; — how I would have stuffed him, his body 
and his wallets too, with rarities and dainties, 
and all kind of choice things ! — but enough of 
this. 

My coming of age led also to other things. 
The title and estate, that had come to my fa- 
ther, had given him an influence in some of the 
Scotch boroughs ; and he expressed to me his 
wish that I should be in Parliament : — Clodpole 
in Parliament ! — Thinks- I-to-my self, was ever 
such a thing heard of as a Clodpole in Parlia- 
ment ! ! — I actually did not reckon myself quite 
fit for it, and even ventured one day to tell my 
father so : — " JVot Jit for it I" says he ; " sure- 
ly you are as fit as this, and that, and Vother,'''' 
whom he ran over with such a volubility of 
reckoning, through the A's and B's and C's, 
quite down to Jzzard, (I know not how many he 
enumerated,) ending, unfortunately, with two 
or three of the Whip Club, against whom he 
had a particular spite ; — " Surely, my boy," says 
my father, ^'•you are as fit to be m Parliament 
as suchfelloios as those .'" I was always sorry, 1 
confess, to hear him say so of the Whip Club ; 
because it was one of the few prejudices he 
had that could be said to be at all unreasonable ; 
for I could never possibly agree with him 
about that particular association of gentlf.- 



168 THINKS-I-TO-M\SELF. 

MEN ; — I always supposed that it must be al- 
together impossible for any body to see those 
illustrious personages quit the metropolis in 
the way they are accustomed to do, at broad 
DAY, BAROUCHE after BAROUCHE, accoutrod as 
EXACTLY as possible like mail-coach-men, 

DRIVING their OWN SERVANTS, &C. &C. &C. 

— But they must be tempted to think, at lefist, 
if not to say to themselves, (as I generally do,) 
what useful, what tvise, what valuable, what 
important, what dignified members of the 
STATE ! ! ! ! ! 

And now I am upon this most interesting 
subject, I cannot help adding, that I still more 
admire the tandem Club, because those gen- 
tlemen must of necessity be better coachmen 
than any of the rest : — the /owr horses of a Ba- 
rouche are so harnessed and hooked together, 
that in a great measure they take care one of 
another, (if, indeed, they should all four hap- 
pen to agree to run away at once, mercy upon 
all behind them I not to mention all before 
them — ) but in a tandem I see nothing "".o in- 
duce the leader to keep his course straight for- 
ward but an address, on the part of the chari- 
oteer, as nearly as can be supernaturaJ : for, if 
the fore-horse chooses to go to the rignt or the 
left on a sudden, he may plainly overset the car- 
riage, before any creature upon earth, sitting 
five yards behind him, could be quick enough 
to bring him to his senses ; especially if a pig, 
or a jack-ass, or a windmill, or a pack of gip- 
sies, or a scissor-grinder's machinery, should 
stana in his way, — and, for my own part, I 
think leaders of tandems are particularly apt to 
turn short round on a sudden, in the way I de- 



THINKS-I TO-MYSELF. H59 

scribe ; — numbers and numbers have I seen 
perform this manoeuvre so suddenly and unex- 
pectedly that one would have sworn it must be 
done on purpose to confound the driver ; — and 
the assurance and impudence with Avhich they 
do it, in some instances, is past all description ; 
staring all the while full in the faces of those 
in the carriage, as much as to say, I must have 
a peep at the fools behind that are pretending 
to manage me. — It is, however, I must confess, 
a glaring contradiction that near-sighted peo- 
ple should drive Tandems, (I speak to Scholars ;) 
yet such things are ! Heaven protect his Ma- 
jesty's liege subjects ! — 

Well, I was to be in Parliament as soon as 
a fair opportunity should occur. — I was to re- 
present some six or seven Scotch boroughs, 
(as the famous Charley Fox once did,) and get 
acquainted with my constituents as I could. — 
Thinks-I-to-myself, this sounds odd ; — but, yet, 
Why not ? — Who knows all his constituents, or 
gets a,cquainted with them otherwise ? — And, 
perhaps, I may be as competent to legislate for 
the empire at large, with but few constituents, 
and little communication with them, as if I 
were to represent Westminster, or Middlesex, 
or London, and held an intercourse with them 
daily in Taverns, or on Hustings, or from tri- 
umphal cars, or in Westminster Hall, or from 
the top or 60a: of a Hackney Coach. I say, 
perhaps: — I had rather of the two have few 
constituents, and consider myself a representa- 
tive of the nation at large, than a multitude of 
such whimsical chaps, such odd friends of liber- 
ty, as would never suffer me so much as to 
think, even to myself, any thing contrary to 
15 



170 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

their particular whims and caprices, (nay, jjer- 
haps their local and personal prejudices,) and 
unless I bowed down to them^ with almost idola- 
trous worship, would be sure to pelt me with 
cabbage-stalks, or brickbats, dead cats, or dead 
dogs, rotten apples, or rotten eggs ! — as to the 
real patriotism or genuine liberality of such 
chaps, Thinks-Lto-myself, it is all a ! and 

a BIG, BOUNCING ONE, tOO ! 

But the minister, — the minister ; — he may 
have an undue influence over me : ay, so he 
may, indeed ; and, Thinks-I-to-myself, there 
can, to be sure, be no undue influence in a 
bludgeon I — in hissings, and hootings, and pelt- 
ings, and cat-calls, and placards : no ; these 
are mighty harmless, amiable, delightful helps 
to freedom of thought, and speech, and con- 
duct ; — Heaven bless the people who wish to 
call them into action every three years, instead 
of seven ! Our Scotch boroughs are, at least, 
[Thinks-I-to-myself,) as well off as the minority 
in any popular election, who must, in the issue 
of things, be contented to be represented, not 
only by a man not of their own choice, but by 
one who possibly has, by himself or friends, 
done all he could to exasperate and affront 
them ! 

But integrity, integrity — ay, there's the rub ; 
— integrity is every thing : — no corruption ; — 
no placemen ; — no ! down with them all ! — in- 
tegrity is the only qualification for a Parlia- 
ment man : — come, then, all you honest Tom 
Dashes, drive up to London : you honest coun- 
try gentlemen, that never breathed the corrupt 
air of a court, or a royal residence, or wished 
to get a step higher in the world; -you aie 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. J 71 

the people, the only people ; — you have no 
prejudices, no piques, no passions, no partialities^ 
no professional bias, no pretensions beyond in- 
tegrity ; — let trade take care of itself, — and the 
army, and the navy, and the church, and the 
law ; — you can make laws and statutes enough, 
no doubt, with your integrity, without any 
other aid or assistance whatsoever ; — in truth, 
I believe you are, for the most part, honest 
and uncorrupt, and I ever wish to see a pretty 
sprinkling of you among the other legislators 
of the realm : — I wish, too, that integrity may 
ever prove as powerful as it is judged by some 
to be, and perhaps it may when the Millennium 
begins ; — then, I think, (but not an hour before,) 
honesty may really become the best policy, and 
(what is more) the only policy wanted. 

I love reform as well as any : — I wish we 
were all reformed : — not merely the Parliament 
House, but you and I, and such folks as Mr. 
Twist, and Bob Gubbins, and Big Beelzebub : 
— and I love John Bull too ; — and I love him 
dearly ; and I would have him always live at 
large in fat pastures, and with as little work 
as possible all the days of his life ; only I wish 
him to be as good humioured and civil as he 
can be, and never to butt or bellow, out of mere 
sulkiness, or pride, or wantonness, or ill-nature, 
or caprice, or solely for the sake of frightening 
harmless people out of their wits ; — which, I 
think, sometimes, he has been rather inclined 
to do. 

Before the happy time came for my union 
with Emily, Miss Twist picked up another 
lover, or admirer, or whatever you may please 
to call him : it was a young " Muster Dash •,'■' 



172 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

a dissipated, profligate youth of fortune, nearly 
resembling-, by all accounts, the most amiable 
and deeply lamented Tom Dash, of sporting- 
celebrity. M^s. Twist, I am told, was much 
hurt, when she first discovered that he had no 
chance of inheriting even a Scotch Barony, and 
grieved, within herself, that, after all, " our 
grand-daughters'^ stood a great chance of be- 
ing plain misses. She ventured once, I am 
told, to remonstrate against it ; but Miss swore 
" she^d have him, whether they would or no ; 
she'd buy him ever so great a title, if that were 
all." They were continually riding out to- 
gether, leaping hedges and ditches ; particu- 
larly directing their attacks against my poor 
father's fences, to revenge the insult, I sup- 
pose, whicli had appeared to have been put 
upon the young lady by the heir apparent's 
cold neglect. This trespass, however, con- 
tinued but a short time ; for Nicotium Castle 
soon became an insufferable bore to these two 
Dashers, so that they worried Mr. and Mrs. 
Twist down to Brighton in the summer, and 
up to London in the winter ; and then down to 
Brighton again, and from Brighton to Margate, 
and from Margate to London again ; and from 
London to Cheltenham, and from Cheltenham 
to Bath, and from Bath to Cheltenham again ; 
and so on. — Almost every Sabbath day they 
changed their place of abode. The TA/vist 
property seemed to be going much as it came ; 
— that is, it appeared to be in a fair way of be- 
ing dissipated like smoke ; — so that Mr. Twist, 
himself, at length began to get out of humour, 
and judged it not improper to interfere before 
they all got ruined together ; — he determined, 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 173 

therefore, at once, to break off the connexion, 
and, with the full weight of his paternal au- 
thorit}?-, even ventured to open his mind to his 
gentle and amiable daughter ; that is, the 
lovely Miss Grizilda : — he peremptorily told 
her the intercourse must be put an end to, and 
that she must consent to see " young Muster 
DasW'' no more. 

Upon this fatherly communication, the obe- 
dient and accomplished daughter burst out a 
laughing, as I am told, in his face, declaring, 
that she heeded none of his threats, for that 
they had been privately married more than 
three weeks ; which was the exact truth of 
the matter. 

As she was a minor, he at first vowed he 
would endeavour to set it aside ; but at length 
relented, and was reconciled. It would have 
been a great pity, indeed, if he and " young 
Muster DasW^ had quarrelled, for, in most re- 
spects, they were, undoubtedly, " birds of a 
feather,^'' and perfectly suited to each other. 
Miss Watson had long before been sent off; 
as soon as ever, that is, that Miss Grizilda felt, 
(which was marvellously soon,) that she was, 
herself, come to years of discretion ! 

All these events luckily kept the Twists out 
of the country while the preparations were 
making for ClodpoWs wedding, as well as for 
the celebration of his coming of age. — I was 
married just three weeks previously to the lat- 
ter event, and my sister about a fortnight before 
it. — The fete, that took place in consequence 
of these three great occurrences, was certainly 
most splendid, costly, and magnificent: — Oxen 
roasted lohole ; — fountains of wine and ale ; — 
15* 



174 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

bonfires upon all the hills ; — country gambols, 
&c. &c. &c., but NO cock-fighting; — no bull- 
haiting ; — no boxing ; — no cudgel-playing ; — 
NO matches against time ; — no ass-racing' ; — 
there was plenty of sport and amusement without 
these: — every thing was provided, in short, that 
could be provided, to make the rational part of 
the company merry, but nothing permitted that 
could make one individual, either of the rational 
or irratio7ial creation, miserable. 

And here I cannot help observing, that my 
father took delight at all times to make the 
poor happy, provided they would consent to be 
made so in a reasonable way ; — he never court- 
ed popularity by making them drunk, or turbu- 
lent, or saucy ; — he was a real friend to them, 
and not a pretended one ; he never went among 
them, as many do, merely to urge them to be 
discontented with their condition, holding forth 
to them no other relief but the mere right of 
complaining ; he endeavoured, all he could, to 
do away every occasion of discontent and com- 
plaint, by administering to the quiet removal of 
every removeable grievance, and teaching 
them at the same time, by his own example, 
patiently to bear all that were really no^ re- 
moveable ; — he was not a democrat in the too 
common sense of the term ; that is, a mean 
man with a proud heart, who seeks only to pull 
down the great, that he may be as great as any : 
but he was a great man with an humble soul, 
(which I regard as the true democrat;) he 
always tried to elevate the low by such a de- 
meanour towards them as might sink all world- 
ly differences, and make them feel the only 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 175 

sort, of equality which God has ordained ; an 
equality of affection, friendship, and brotherhood. 
— The fete at Grumblethorpe was conducted 
upon these principles, and these principles on- 
ly : — there was no encouragement given to li- 
centiousness, much less to cruelty or profane- 
ness; yet, as far as expense and munificence 
could provide " things lawful and honest,^' eve- 
ry man was made free, and every man welcome. 

So we were married ; and so I came of age : 
—and here my history had better, perhaps, be 
brought to a conclusion ; for the marriage in 
such works as this is generally like the fall- 
ing of the curtain at the play-house ; — however, 
I have a sort of Epilogue still to deliver, and 
then I shall make my final bow. 

My sister's match turned out as happily as 
my own, so that my worthy father and mother 
reaped the just fruits of all their kind care 
of us. — They had treated us like reasonable 
creatures from our infancy, and therefore we 
grew up to be such, and, I trust, have continued 
so ever since ; and this has made the marriage 
state a happy dispensation to ourselves and our 
connexions. 

Captain Charleville had been brought up 
much like ourselves, and Emily^s education has 
been described. Every accomplishment we 
severally possessed, either of mind or body, 
was in its nature permanent : — we had been 
taught nothmg frivolous, nothing fantastical ; — • 
nothing likely to go out of fashion, or become 
obsolete : personal accomplishments had not 
been neglected, nor amusements proscribed ; 
but even these had been so managed and con- 



170 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

ducted as to be subservient to the great end 
and object of our education; namely, the im- 
provement of our minds and intellects : we 
had learned nothing superficially, or for tem- 
porary purposes : whatever it had been thought 
necessary for us to learn, we had been tho- 
roughly instructed in, and nothing had been 
judged necessary but what was likely to assist 
our judgments, to regulate our maaners, to 
temper our passions, and to render us use- 
ful, as well as agreeable, to our fellow crea- 
tures, from the beginning of life to the end 
of it. 

Miss Twist had, perhaps, been educated be- 
yond any of us, as far as expense, and variety, 
and show were concerned ; but almost every 
thing she had thus acquired was out of fashion 
by the time she got married, and quite so by 
the time she had a family ; so that her husband 
was no better for it all, and her children only 
so much the worse ; for, as show and variety 
were originally the prime objects of all her 
pursuits, the love of shoio and the love of va- 
riety never abated ; so that fresh expenses con- 
tinually became necessary to keep pace with 
the follies and vanities of the day, till all the 
accumulations of the thrifty tobacconist at 
length dwindled into nothing, and at this mo- 
ment the Twist stile no longer separates the 
two domains ; — the Nicotium property came to 
the hammer several years ago, and Clodpole, 
after all, is in possession of the whole ! 

My being in Parliament laid us under a ne- 
cessity of being more in London than was quite 
agreeable either to Emily or myself. The 



THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 177 

fair face of nature had charms for us, which 
we looked for in vain in the dark and dirty me- 
tropolis. — As far as we ourselves were person- 
ally concerned, we found no compensation, in 
the noise and bustle of that enormous city, for 
the quiet retirement and calmer pleasures of a 
rural residence. 

I fear I should be accounted dull and stupid 
fco the greatest degree, nay, judged to be alto- 
gether of a mean and base spirit, were I expli- 
citly to declare how much I do really prefer the 
one to the other. I will even acknowledge 
that sometimes I have been almost ashamed to 
confess it to myself, fearing it could only re- 
sult from a disposition to prefer nature in ge- 
neral to human nature ; that is, inanimate and 
irrational objects to my fellow creatures ; for, 
while the country abounds with the former, it 
has ever appeared to me that human nature 
may be said to have London to itself — whoev- 
er, therefore, has but one spark of real phi- 
lanthropy, that is, whoever can bring him- 
self to love MAN, merely as man, in preference 
to all other beings and earthly existences 
whatsoever, (which is, it must be confessed, 
the height of Christianity ;) to whomsoever, 1 
say, this can happen, London must needs be 
the very place in which he ought most to de- 
light ; inasmuch as, in all probability, that re- 
nowned city, take it altogether, contains with- 
in it more of human nature than any other cor- 
ner of the globe ; I mean of genuine human 
nature ; such as man really is, not by education, 
but in spite of education and every other re- 
straint whatsoever, human or divine : — man, to 



178 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

be beloved as man, ought certainly to be seen 
and known in London, because there he may 
be seen in almost every possible situation, and 
under every variety of character ; and, tbere- 
fore, if he does really deserve to be loved as 
he ought to be, or, in other words, as our holy 
religion enjoins, where can we expect to be 
better satisfied and convinced of his matchless 
and extraordinary perfections than in that 
general receptacle and resort of the species at 
large ? — Therefore it is that I grieve to say, 
that, after numberless efforts to the contrary, 
I still seem to prefer nature at large : — Thinks- 
I-to-myself, there's rather more appearance of 
ordei', of harmony, of beauty, of utility, of virtue, 
of innocence, in the view of almost any country 
district, than of the most thronged, crowded, 
vopulous, busy part of London. 

This I conceive to be a genuine Thinks-I- 
to-myself: — I don't suppose any body ever 
thought the like ; — I scarcely, indeed, dare 
avow so singular a prejudice : — I am, in fact, 
ashamed of it altogether, and would give the 
world to get rid of it, because, at all events, 
London is a very useful place, and the differ- 
ence between town and country is, it must 
be confessed, so palpably in favour of the for- 
mer. 

Often am I tempted to say, as I traverse the 
streets of London on a Jine spring moiifiing, 
why cannot I be contented, as so many thou- 
sands are, to enjoy the bright beams of the 
sun, as they are dimly reflected from the sur- 
face of that long range of bL'ildings of dingy 
brick work, the habitations of man I spending 



THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 17^ 

all their vivifying force on the superficies of 
this delightful stone pavement, on which so 
many lords of the creation are delighted to 
tread, instead of wishing rather to behold that 
wond-erful luminary, enlightening, unrestrain- 
ed, (that is, in a careless, loose, and rude man- 
ner,) a mere vulgar expanse of rural scenery, 
mountain and valley, hill and dale, wood and 
wilderness, dispersing its rays abroad to cheer 
and revive seldom any thing better than mere 
birds and beasts, herbs and trees, to ripen the 
fruits of the earth, or adorn the flowers of the 
field ? 

Surely, Thinks-I-to-myself, it ought to be far 
more gratifying, if I had but a just notion of 
the pre-eminence and dignity of man, to see it 
insinuating itself with such modesty and hu- 
mility, and such deference to the multifarious 
restrictions imposed on it, into the cracks and 
corners, and narrow passes of the crowded me- 
tropolis ;-^making its way with such eage 
anxiety as it generally seems to do, though 
continually turned out of its direct course, into 
its numerous streets and squares, lanes and 
alleys, courts and passages, shops and sham- 
hies ! ! 

The dignity and proud pre-eminence of us 
human creatures cannot, I think, be placed in 
a higher point of view than by the marked 
subservience of this glorious luminary in this 
particular region of the globe ; though there is 
no place on the face of the whole earth in which 
it is more scurvily treated by man, woman, and 
child, it yet never wantonly turns away its 
beams ; it rises many, many hours before there 



im THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

is any body awake or in motion to be enlight- 
ened by its rays, and submits to be put out of 
countenance by the preference almost univer- 
sally given to wax and tallow candles ; — it sub- 
mits to shine only by rejlection or refraction, 
seldom in full lustre into any one street of the 
metropolis ; and, if it ever does appear in per- 
son to the astonished eye, it is most commonly 
not in its utmost glory, but more like a dark 
red ball shorn of its beams, not near so bright 
as one of those enormous show-bottles in a 
Chemist's shop, that so often dazzle and con- 
found your eyes, as you traverse the streets at 
night. 

I know not where the sun receives more 
marked insults than in London, either in the 
way of neglect, or interruption, or open con- 
tempt of its use and importance in the system 
of things ; — the moon, poor thing ! is not wor- 
thy of a thought; though (^iieen of the JVight, 
-^ which latter has more votaries in London than 
any where else, all the honours are transferred 
to the one without the smallest care or concern 
being expressed for the other. Thinks- I-to-my- 
self, there are other queens of the night 
at London ! 

It is a pity but the sun and moon could be 
persuaded to leave London to itself, and be- 
stow such portions of their light as are thus 
uselessly spent upon the metropolitans, to the 
greater accommodation of the country folks : — 
the latter alone, in fact, seem to be duly sensi- 
ble of the great and particular benefits to be 
derived from these two great lights of Heaven ; 
made, originally, (as I have read,) the San to 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. J8I 

rule the day, and the Moon to rule the night ; 
an ordinance which Londoners have thought 
proper to reverse, so that generally, and for the 
most part, the night of a Londoner falls undf" 
the dominion of the sun, and the day of a Lou 
doner under the dominion of the moon ; — Is it 
not so. Sir ? — Is it not so, Madam ? — Is it not so. 
Miss ? — Speak out honestly. 

Not that all London, perhaps, is ever asleep 
at the same moment; as there are plenty of 
disturb-e?-5, so there are probably plenty of dis- 
turh-ed, at all hours; — sweep! and dust-0.' 
— hare skeens and rahhit skeens I — and ould 
Clouthes ! no doubt often at the dawn of day 
interrupt the very commencement of many a 
beliefs repose, just returned from the ball, or 
assembly, or masquerade ; — but let these re- 
flect in their turn : how many honest, industri- 
ous, hard working citizens the rattling of their 
carriages may have robbed of the end of their 
repose, at hours still more unreasonable, more 
precious, and more allowably dedicated to 
Morpheus. 

And, now I have alluded to these things, I 
cannot help mentioning another strange and 
unaccountable prejudice which 1 could never 
shake off, though so necessary to my comfort 
during my attendance in Parliament ; instead 
of being cheered and exhilarated, as others 
generally are, by the sweet sounds that are 
continually saluting you in London, such as 
the rattling o{ coaches just mentioned, the rum- 
bling of carts, the cry of sprats and macrill, 
muffins and crumpets, dusi-0, sweep- O, milk- 
helow-maids, and other such melodious strains, 
16 



182 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

I could at any time have found greater delight 
in the dull ivarhling of larks or linnets, black- 
birds or nightingales, and other rural noises, 
such as — 

'' The wild brook babbling down the mountain side. 

The loioing herd, the sheep-fold's simple bell ; 

The pipe of early Shepherd dim descry'd 

111 the lone valley; echoing far and wicie 

Tlie clamorous horn along the cliffs above j 

The hollow murmur of the ocean tide ; 

Tne hum of bees, and linnet's lay of love, 

And the full choir that wakes the universal grove.'' 

i'here must naturally be something so much 

more noble and important in the " busy hum of 
men" than in " the busy hum of bees," or any 
other inferior animal, that I am almost ashamed 
to acknowledge such base prepossessions. 

It is often said, and oftener perhaps thought, 
of London, as of Paris in old time, that the 
very air of the metropolis is necessary to the 
improvement and perfection of any talent we 
may happen to possess ; that those who have 
not visited the capital cannot be expected ever 
to excel in any art or any science, — upon 
which T can only say, what has been already 
said also in the case of Paris alluded to, name- 
ly, that this is indeed very likely to be true,' 
since, undoubtedly, the air of London must 
needs be a very particular air ; not any of your 
mere simple, uncompounded, insipid fluids like 
the air of the country, but evidently and palpa- 
bly consisting of an immense variety of sub- 
stances most curiously blended and mingled 
together ; London, as well as Paris, may rea ■ 
sonably be considered as one vast crucible, in 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 183 

which divers meats and fruits, oils, wines, pep- 
per, cinnamon, sugar, coffee, (this for Paris— 
you may add for London) coal-dust and coal- 
smoke, brick-dust, mud, the steam of a thou- 
sand breiverics, the fumes and vapours of ten 
thousand gin-shops, &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. 
&c. &c. &c., are daily collected, the stomachs 
and lungs of the inhabitants being- the furnaces 
by which these various ingredients are again 
decomposed. 

It must be evident to all capable of consi- 
dering the subject but for one moment, that 
the more subtile and volatile parts of every 
thing in the whole town, capable of decomposi- 
tion, must be every moment flying off, and in- 
corporating themselves with t'le air ive breathe ! 
what smoke I what flames ! what a torrent of 
vapours and exhalations ! 

I need not pursue this matter further : the 
hint is sufficient to enable any person in full 
possession of almost any one o£ the Jive senses, 
taste, touch, smell, sight, or hearing, to swell 
the catalogue, as well as to enlarge his own 
ideas of the very extraordinary nature and 
component parts of a London atmosphere. 

How can we be surprised if it work effects 
not to be looked for elsewhere ! who can won- 
der that the genius should be brighter, the 
brain clearer, the senses more acute, the facul- 
ties (not to mention the virtues) of the soul im- 
proved, in an atmosphere subject to such curi- 
ous compositions and decompositions, sublima- 
tions, fermentations, elective attractions, precipi- 
tations, Sfc. ^'c. ^-c. ? 



184 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELP 

There is nothing on wnich it appears to have 
a more powerful and wonderful effect than on 
the human voice ; the energies and operations 
of which have here a value which would exceed 
all belief, if it were not capable of being veri- 
fied by an appeal to facts notorious to the 
whole world : 1 do not mean to speak of the 
little trumpery profits of those who haivk and 
cry their commodities about the public streets, 
(though to my soft ears, so wonderfully sono- 
rous are the voices of the very gentlest of 
those gentle orators, that they seem, most of 
them, to possess the Jifly-fo\d faculties of a 
Stentor ;] nor do I mean to speak of the popu- 
lar preachers in the several chapels in London, 
regular or irreguar, (though, for what I know, 
many of them may be admired, and paid more 
for the sound than for the sense they utter ;) 
nor do I mean to speak of the profits of the 
gentry of the long-7'obe, (though I have heard 
it rumoured that some are frequently rewarded 
more for what they say than what they think ;) 
nor do I mean to speak of my brethren in Par- 
liament, (though I know it is thought that ma- 
ny of them make some profit of their voices ;) 
nor do I indeed mean to speak at all of the ef- 
fects the London air has on the lungs of Eng- 
lishmen cr Englishioomen, to whom it may be 
considered as at all events natural and congeni- 
al ; but I mean most particularly to allude to the 
very surprising advantage it gives to the voices 
of those who happen to Jiave been born in the 
fair climes of Italy ; the more surprising be- 
cause a Northern atmosphere might be natu- 



THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. IS? 

rally expected to be rather disadvantageous to 
such Southern rarities, 

I might adduce a thousa.iid instances in proof 
of the astonishing value of an Italian voice 
when exposed to the influences of a London 
atmosphere ; I might amuse the reader, if I 
chose, with a curious calculation of the proba- 
ble amount of the enormous sums paid for 
every word of every air that proceeds from the 
mouths of certain eminent performers ; but an 
article I read this very day in the newspapers 
is so much in point, that / shall merely tran- 
scribe it ; " Madame Catalina had diamonds on 
her head to the amount of 15,0(X)Z. — her voice, 
however, is her richest jeioeV 

A Lady's virtue is generally supposed to be 
her " richest Jewel ,•" but you see the voice of 
an Italian lady in London outweighs even that ; 
at least so the paragraph just cited implies : 
most certainly, however, in a pecuniary point 
of view, it does always outweigh the brightest 
and purest virtues of many of our worthy coun- 
trymen and most amiable countrywomen I 

There are several things for which I wish 
to give London unbounded credit ; particular- 
ly with regard to all matters of social inter- 
course ; these are far better managed in Lon- 
don than in the country. Mrs. Fidget, for in^ 
stance, and her troublesome dogs, and child, 
(see pages 8, 9, &c. vol. i.) would never have 
been admitted, in London, while my mother 
was writing a letter to my sister, unless she 
had herself, bondjide, as they say in Latin, 
xhaX is, from the bottom of her heart, chosen it : 
she miglil have looked out of the window her- 
16* 



I8G TH!iNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

self, and said, " Ao-^ at home ;" so little p^^*^ 
these things thought of in that great and polity 
city. 

I know there mast ever appear to be some- 
thing very like a deliberate falsehood, not to 
say downright lie, m such sort of denials, and 
therefore I think it would be better for people 
actually to say it themselves at once, out of the 
window, as 1 have hinted above, instead of 
making their servants their substitutes upon 
such occasions, that is, their deputy, pro or vice- 
liars : — London servants, besides, are, in gene- 
ral, and when left to themselves, so remarka- 
bly pure, so perfectly innocent, and altogether 
immaculate, that it is a shame to lay such 
stumbling blocks in their way ; — surely it 
would at least be worth while to invent some 
harmless equivoque for this sort of questions 
and answers. 

And, now I am upon the subject of being at 
home, I must observe that to " be at home'^ 
means, in London, I scarce know what : — it 
certainly does not mean that you are in your 
own house, private and disengaged, so as to sit 
quietly, snug and rationally, at lull liberty, and 
with complete command of your time, in the 
enjoyment of the company of your husband or 
wife, and the little olive branches it may have 
pleased Heaven to raise up around your family 
table ; but it is rather. I think, as far as I am 
able to comprehend the matter, the exact con- 
trary of all this : — "fo be at home^'' in London, 
is any thing rather than to sit snug and quiet, 
in fall enjoyment of one'' s liberty : — it is to open 
one's doors to every body we happen to know- 



THINKS-T-TO-MYSELF. 187 

and to give them permission, by every freedom 
in the world, to make it their home for the 
time being : — so far from sitting snug and 
qaiet, you are, of all the people in such an 
assembly, the very person most peremptorily 
forbidden ever to sit snug or quiet : — your ser- 
vants even must be more at the command of 
the company than of yourselves ; nay, perhaps, 
by a certain deposit of money under the candle- 
sticks, they must consent to be paid their 
wages by the visitors, for fear you should not 
be found fit to be trusted. 

The misery is, that when they are all gone 
you are really left at home ; that is, you have 
your house so completely on your own hands, 
that, probably, not one, of all the company just 
departed, care a bit more about you or your 
house,* though you are compelled to care about 
them, in the mere anxiety you feel, lest every 
thing should not have been conducted, as the 
French say, ^^ comme ilfaut," which admirably 
expresses a necessity of a most imperious na- 
ture, and, in regard to which, any failure, or 
faux-pis, I fully apprehend, would be more 
disquieting to the consciences of half the 
ladies in London, than ever so many failings 
or omissions of any other description. 

* The following lines of the immortal Cowper 1 cite 
Merely to show how little he knew of the world : — 

" She that asks 



Her dear five hundred friends contemns them all. 
And hates their coming ; they, what can they less ? 
Make just reprisals, and with cringe and shrug, 
And bow obsequious, hide their hate of her." 



188 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

From all the observations I have been able 
to make, it certainly appears to me that to be 
at home, in London, does by no means imply 
any private comfort or domestic liberty, but 
rather public inconvenience, and public dis- 
tress. One more observation I must make 
before I dismiss this topic. — 

There is a method of being at home, lately 
invented, which, if strictly interpreted accord- 
ing to the very letter of the terms, is the far- 
thest possible from being really at home in 
your own house ; — it is, in fact, freely and de- 
liberately to give up your home : — I speak of 
the custom of lending certain great houses (so 
great that I dare not mention them) to musical 
or theatrical performers, who have leave to sell 
tickets of admission, leaving only to the real 
possessor of the house a power and privilege 
of adding a very small proportion of the com- 
pany. 

I have such a high respect for fiddlers, and 
dancing masters, and opera singers, and fo- 
reigners in general, that I cannot, and would 
not, indeed, for the world, suppose it possible 
that they could introduce any improper com- 
pany ; but money is money, — and I believe that 
a bank note does not at all lose its value by 
coming out of the pocket of any vagabond on 
the face of the earth, any more than it increases 
in value by coming out of the purse of a 
Duchess, Marchioness, Countess, Viscountess, 
Baroness, &c. &c. &c., so that, Thinks-I-to- 
myself, there's a hazard : the lady of the house 
may be good, super-excellent ; but the compa- 
ny may be naught! — what a contrast! — what 



THINKS-1-T()-IV]YSELF. 189 

an inconsistency I — sIjg may "be at home," 
certainly, as far as she is entitled to go to 
bed there when all the rest of the company 
are gone, but she may depend upon it they 
will all think themselves as much at home as 
herself, so long as they may choose to keep 
her out of her bed, and are, after all, about as 
much obliged to her for any entertainment 
they may have received, as to the proprietor 
of any inn, or hotel, for the accommodations of 
their rooms, so long as they may choose to 
give a pecuniary equivalent for the bows and 
courtesies, and eatables and drinkables, where- 
with they may have been furnished for their 
money : Hotel, in French, is the very word for 
a nobleman's mansion, [grande maison d'une 
personne de qualite,) what then if we were to 
exchange the term House for Hotel, and say, 

D Hotel, E Hotel, F Hotel, &c. &c. 

&c., that is, in plain English, genteel (nay, 
even noble) accommodations for those who can 
afford it. 

JVeighbourhood. which is a word of great im- 
portance in the country, is of no account at all 
in London. Every day, in the country, you 
may hear such complaints as these : ^^ I wish 
such and such persons lived a little nearer,'^'' 
or, " / wish such and such people were fur- 
ther ;" that is, further off, out of sight and out 
of reach ; but no such murmurings or wishes 
are to be heard in London ; the people wo 
hate most in the world are welcome to live 
next door to us, and there is nobody too far off 
if any pleasure or profit, amusement or delight, 



190 TIIINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

but above all, any credit or eclat are to be de- 
rived from visiting: them. 

In London, wherever you are not, nobody, 
probably, of all the company, knov^s where you 
are, so that you may, vidth much more facility, 
and far less violence to truth, than in the coun- 
try,' decline any troublesome or unpleasant in- 
vitation ; nor are pleasant and unpleasant in- 
vitations so likely to clash and interfere in town 
as in the country ; for houses enough are open, 
generally, every night, to enable you, in the way 
of visiting, to kill twenty or thirty head of game 
(as Mrs. Fidget would say) in one evening ; 
whereas, either on foot, or horseback, or in 
carriages, it must cost you a journey of many 
miles in the country, and all to be transacted 
by vulgar day-light, and all in regular turns, 
without one omission, or any notorious prefer- 
ence ; whereas in London preferences at 
least are possible, as not being very easy to 
detect. 

It is a great comfort also, that in London, 
whenever they please, "birds of a feather" 
may get together ; whereas all society in the 
country is, for the most part, so heterogeneous 
and unharmonious, that you will generally see 
peacocks and sparrows, eagles and tomtits, ca- 
nary-birds and crows, goldfinches and Didap- 
pers, all jumbled together; and if one peacock 
would wish ta find another peacock, or one ea- 
gle another eagle, perhaps they may look the 
whole country through before they find one ; — 
in London there is always plenty of all kinds, 
both of birds and beasts, clean and unclean, 
from the highest to the lowest, so that every 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 191 

one may find his fellow — geese, oids, rooks, 
sivallows, cormorants, lions, tigers, ivolves, 
bears, foxes, and asses ! to d certainty, every 
beast of prey and every bird of passage. 

The only equalising plan to be adopted in 
the country is, as soon ns possible to set the 
whole party down to cards. Two whist, cassi- 
no, or quadrille tables will dispose of four 
couple at least of the elderly birds, and a good 
bouncing round game will take all the rest off 
your hands ; — by supplying the want of con- 
versation in those who cannot talk, and effec- 
tually stopping the mouths of all that can, the 
different measures of talents and information, 
which the several individuals of the company 
may chance to possess, are so happily brought 
to a par at a card-table, that the wise can be no 
longer distinguished from the iveak, nor the 
witty from the didl, nor the lively from the stu- 
pid, nor the sage from the savage, nor the saint 
from the sinner ; or, in other words, the pea- 
cock from the sparrow, the eagle from the tom- 
tit, &c. &c. &c. — Though no two of the whole 
covey may chance to be of " one feather," they 
are sure enough to be (at a card-table) all of 
one note. 

" Tivo by honours and three by cards ; 

" Great cass, little cass, and the spades, 
Ma'am ;" or, " You go up, Miss, and I draw ;" 
become of necessity as much the song of the 
nightingale as of the magpie, of the goldfinch 
as of the gull, of the turtle-dove as of the gos- 
haivk, though their plumag'e be as different as 
it is possible to conceive. — Do but turn, gentle 
leader, xo folio 12 of that learned work, which 



192 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

has lately made so much bustle in the worh^, 
and which of course I conclude to be in every 
library in the kingdom, (except, perhaps, the 
Bodleian and a few others ;) I mean the PEA- 
COCK AT HOME, and see what little differ- 
ence the plumage makes, and how much upon a 
par the Dowag-er Lady Toucan, and Dame Ow- 
let, Doctor Buzzard, and Admiral Penguin ap- 
pear to be, and how perfectly it seenis to have 
been forgotten, by the party themselves, per- 
haps, but at all events by the lady of the house, 
(or rather my Lord Peacock,) that they would 
not be accounted " birds of a feather" upon 
any other occasion. 

I wonder, for my own part, that I am not 
more fond of cards than I happen to be, for the 
very essence of the amusement seems to me to 
consist in thinking-to-one^s-self— either in the 
forced suppression of the bright ideas and use- 
ful information with which the witty and the 
icise might be entertaining the company, were 
but the common chanmd of converse and com- 
munication left open to them ; or in the secret 
ponderations, hopes, schemes, wishes, fears, and 
designs of every professed and anxious player ; 
or in the restraint put upon the passions, in or- 
derly company, during an occupation in which 
irritation, vexaiion, perhaps even envy, hatred, 
malice, jealousy, ana revenge, must, in the na- 
ture of th:ngs,'be as nearly as possible inevita- 
ble, at least in some breasts, from the begin- 
ning of almost every game to the very end of 
it. Do but look again at the picture, and see, 
for instance, if the Dowager Lady Toucan 
don't seem (while she dare not utter her feel- 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 193 

ings) to be thinking-to-herself that she could 
willingly claw Admiral Penguiii's eyes out, for 
not being able to save her from being heasted; 
while Dame Owlet is more pleasantly (but not, 
perhaps, less spitefully) thinking-to-HKK-self 
how fortunate she is to have, snug in her own 
hand, the happy card that is to do the business. 
The noble Admiral, forgetful of his element 
and profession, evidently appears to be think- 
ing, not of the fishes of the sea, as usual, but 
of the fishes in the pool ; while Dr. Buzzard, 
alone, seems to tuni away, as though not very 
fond of quadrille, and {possibli/) may be thi7ik- 
ing -to -himself, how much rather he would be 
at home, or visiting his patients, writing pre- 
scriptions, and fingering of fees ; heartily 
wisiuNG-to-himselfi, besides, perhaps, that the 
pool was out, or his partner, Dame Owlet, at the 
bottom of the sea, for playing so slov/, and 
looking all the while so stupidly tranquil, pa- 
tient, and composed. 

O Cards !— Cards !— Cards !— 

Noble, admirable, valuable invention ! So in- 
fallibly conducive to the moral improvement of 
the young, and to the peace and satis^ction of 
the old — [Wherever, that is, they are taken up, 
not now and then, only, for mere amusement, 
once in a month or so, but made a part of every 
evening^ s entertainment, and every day^s occic 
pation] — The young cannot fail to learn from 
it how to look sharp in time after the main 
chance ; to have a lively regard for their neigh- 
bour's j97*oper^?/ ; to be circumspect in all their 
dealings ; to win their way, if not by tricks and 
stratagems, yet by art and management, and if 
17 



.94 THINKS-1-TO-MYSEl.F 

not to go straight forward, yet at least to shuf- 
fe successfully through life. 

The old it must naturally preserve, (during 
all the hours daily and nightly devoted thereto,) 
' as well from any painful refections on the past, 
as from any over-anxious preparations for futu- 
rity ; helping all the while to quicken their 
hopes of eternity, by enabling them to kill Time, 
at the very moment that Time is doing all he 
can to kill them. — But to return. — 

In the country you must always visit in pro- 
prid persona ; that is, you must actually go 
yourselves to people's houses ; but, in London, 
if your servayit goes for you, it is often just as 
well ; or if, instead of making your appearance 
in person, you honour your acquaintance with 
your name only on a card of certain dimensions, 
it is no affront, and. Thinks- I-to-my self, perhaps, 
quite as agreeable to all parties. — This is a no- 
ble convenience, and cuts off a world of dis- 
quietude and trouble. 

It is no uncommon case in London for a ser- 
vant to know better than a Lady's own self 
whom she is acquainted with ; and many in- 
stances occur, I believe, in which the whole 
business of visiting passes no further than be- 
tween the footmen of different families, who, 
having committed to them the entire manage 
ment of the transfer and exchange of cards, 
conduct the matter with an ease and adroitness 
that does them infinite credit, and no doubt 
their mistresses too. 

As servants of the present day are not un- 
seldom the subject of conversation among 
friends and acquaintance, and as I have more 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF 195 

than once had occasion to allude to their me • 
rits, and am always anxious to bestov/ praise 
where it is strictly due ; as, besides, tk-ere are 
few of my fellow creatures in regard to whose 
conduct and demeanour / think more to myself, 
as I am in the habit of observing them in their 
different departments, I cannot help offering a 
few remarks on that most amiable class of 
persons. 

There is nothing, perhaps, of which this age 
may more justly boast, than of the very improved 
state of these domestic conveniences. — No 
longer distinguished, except in certain cases, 
by any articles of dress, from their masters 
and mistresses, they nobly lift up their heads 
on high, like the other lords and ladies of the 
creation, and assume, without exception, all 
the airs, and graces, and manners of their em- 
ployers, which makes a gay world of it from 
top to bottom. 

Instead of giving any body the trouble of 
hiring them in the old-fashioned way, their 
only mode of coming into service now is, to 
hire themselves :— they wait not to be asked 
what they can do, but ingenuously tell you at 
once what ihey wonH do ; and if, upon trial, 
tney should happen to suit their employers 
ever so well, yet, if their employers do not ex- 
actly suit them, they avoid all disagreement by 
withdrawing at once. 

Formerly, if a servant came into service in 
his teens, he would do his best to continue in 
the same service till his dotage. — There was 
no getting rid of him : — he clung to his master 
or mistress like ivy to an oak tree : but now 



196 THIJNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

Ihey are for ever goin^ and coming", which has 
introduced such an agreeable variety into this 
department of life, that there is no saying hov\r 
many new faces one master or one mistress 
may see in tlie course of a year. — All the dul- 
ness and monotony of a joint interest and mu- 
tual attachment are quite at an end : no master 
need ever be encumbered long with the same 
servant, because no servant will long consent 
now-a-days to live with the same master : — let 
them be employed by whom they will, let them 
be indulged, coaxed, pampered, and caressed 
ever so much, yet such is the aspiring nature 
of their noble minds, that they must soon be 
gone again to " better themselves ;" and who 
could have the heart to stop them ? — 

There is one circumstance rather unpleasant 
attending the perpetual change of servants. 
It is irksome (to shy people, at least, like my- 
self) to sit and be looked at during the hour 
of dinner by a parcel of strangers around one's 
table ; but this is easily to be avoided in small 
parties by the use of the dumb waiter, — a sort 
of snuggery, which, I confess, for my own part, 
I take great delight in, whenever practicable ; 
for a du7nb waiter can plainly tell no secrets^ 
which a speaking one may: besides, the dumb 
waiter I mean is generally both deaf and blind 
into the bargain, which, Thinks- I-to -myself, 
multiplies one's comfort greatly. 

Sensible of the heavy charge they must be, 
in these most expensive times, to those with 
whom they live, modern servants are careful 
to guard against waste, by letting you know, 
as distinctly as they can, what will best smt 



THTNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 197 

their appetites, and what not; and, as they all 
eat pretty he-arty as long as tiiey have just 
what they choose to eat, the quantity of broken 
victuals is not likely to be so great as if they 
were to leave you in the dark as to their par- 
ticular likings and dislikings : — this, then, is a 
modern accommodation of great importance : — 
if you or your housekeeper make any mistake 
in providing for the tables below stairs, imme- 
diate murmuring and complaint soon sets all to 
rights again by letting you into the secret of 
the necessity of better management. 

Their exemption from taxes and household 
cares renders them most happily careless and 
indifferent to all public and private distresses 
and calamities, so that they fortunately enjoy, 
in general, an equal state of spirits ; and, 
should any great national misfortune or family 
loss bring sorrow and heaviness into the draw- 
ing-room, it must be a great blessing and de- 
light to know that you have nothing to do but 
open the door, and you will be sure at all times 
to hear the voice of joy and gladness in the 
servants' hall and kitchen. 

Formerly, there used to be great danger of 
confusion, in most households, from the perfect 
indifference with which every servant would 
perform, when required, every sort of service ; 
if the master gave but the word of command, 
or expressed any sort of want, none slopped to 
inquire whose place it was to obey ; but the 
first that happened to be within hearing would 
be eager to disciiarge the duty demanded ; and, 
if more than one heard his voice, you might 
have seen • the jolly footman tumbling in his 
17* 



198 THIiNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

eagerness over the great fat Jiousckeep^.r, or 
the housekeeper over the cook^ or the cook over 
the old gouty biUler, all anxious to obey the im- 
pressive call; but now every servant makes it 
his business to know his own place so exactly, 
that it is a matter of impossibility that one 
should any longer invade the department of 
another ; let the call be ever so loud, or the 
emergency ever so pressing, no entreaty or 
chiding, no coaxing or commanding, could in- 
duce a butler to consent to do the work of a 
footman, or a footman the work of a groom, or 
a housemaid the work of a cook, or a cook the 
work of a housemaid; but every one will be 
found to have such an invincible disposition to 
preserve the order and etiquette of things, that 
the smallest irregularity in this respect, on the 
part of any master or any mistress, is sure to be 
checked or corrected by the timely advice and 
memento, that, " li is not my place to do so and 
so.^^ This also is an invention of very modern 
date. There is one oifice, duty, or service, of 
some importance to the comfort and welfare of 
the community, which is now entirely relin- 
quished and abandoned by the v^hole race and 
order of domestics ; namely, that of informing 
the master or mistress of any disorderly pro- 
ceedings on the part of the household in gene- 
ral. " Ma'am," says Mrs. Housekeeper, " I did 
certainly know long ago that Dolly the house- 
maid did intrigue with Charles the footman, 
but I thought it was not my business to inter- 
fere ;" and " Sir," says Mr. Butler, " I certain- 
ly thought that some silver spoons were miss- 
ing, and that Molly the dairymaid dressed too 



THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 199 

fine ; but I did not like to get anger amon^ my 
fellow-servants by making any piece of work 
about it." 

It used formerly to be a matter of convenience 
for any master or mistress to communicate an 
order or direction through a third person : to 
tell the butler, for instance, to tell the coach- 
man to wait at table, or the footman to ask the 
groom to carry a letter to the post ; but this 
round-about mode of communication is now 
properly put an end to ; Mr. Butler no longer 
dare presume to tell Mr. Coachman to wait at 
table, nor Mr. Charles the footman Mr. Bob the 
groom to carry a letter to the post ; Mrs. 
Housekeeper to tell Miss House-maid to help 
her prepare the sweetmeats, nor the tiui'se 
to ask the laundry-maid to bring up little 
Miss's dinner. But, if these things are to be 
done for the special accommodation of the 
master and mistress, it is settled and agreed, 
that, in point of etiquette^ they are bound to de- 
liver the commands themselves — which is but 
paying a proper compliment to their suprema- 
cy ; — and, though resistance may be often 
made even to the commands of masters and 
mistresses themselves in such cases, yet one 
step at least in the disturbance and discom- 
fiture of families is by this means avoided, 
while the honour, dignity, pride, and impor- 
tance of all the under-servants remain inviolate 
— a point most particularly to be attended to, 
in the present day, by all who wish to live 
(with the consent and permission of tlieir de- 
pendants) in peace and quietness. 



20(' THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

In old time, every male servant wore a live- 
ry, the best possible badge of his calling and 
profession, though rather a degrading one, and 
therefore, of course, better laid aside ; and thus 
we see, that now none will wear a livery that 
can possibly avoid it ; and, where livery ser- 
vants must be kept for show and parade, they 
are so chosen and selected as amply to com- 
pensate the casual degradation of their har- 
lequin jackets ; — none being admitted into the 
chosen band but such as are distinguished 
above their fellows by extraordinary altitude 
or beauty of person, or elegance of figure, or 
gentility of address ; the exterior is all that is 
attended to, and they are generally hired by 
measure. 

I cannot pretend to say whether the above 
improvements are owing most to the masters 
and mistresses of the present day, or to the 
servants themselves : — perhaps they deserve to 
share the praise between them ; perhaps both 
have contributed all they could to that happy 
change of manners and circumstances upon 
which I have judged tit to congratulate the 
public at large. 

At times, when the servants of other coun- 
tries were judged to be notoriously bad, the 
wisest heads seem to have been puzzled to 
know where exactly to fix the blame ; — some 
thought the masters were m fault, and others 
the servants : — no wonder, therefore, if I am 
now equally puzzled to know how to portion 
out aright the conmiendations that may be due 
to each. About thirty years ago, a celebrated 
French writer thus speaks of the bad condition 



THIi\KS-l-TO-MYSELF. 201 

of servants at Paris, attributing their faults, 
in a great degree, to the conduct of their 
masters : 

" Servants, in former days,^^ says he, (for the 
title of the chapter is JSfos Grand Meres, our 
Grandmothers,) " made part of the family : they 
were treated with less civility, but more affec- 
tion ; of which they, being duly sensible, were 
in proportion grateful and attentive ; masters 
were better served, and could depend upon 
them for a degree of fidelity very rare in 
these days ; care was taken to preserve them 
alike from vice and from want ; and, in return 
for their services and obedience, they plenti- 
fully enjoyed all the fruits of kindness and pro- 
tection ; but, now, servants pass from house to 
house, and from place to place, perfectly in- 
different what master it is they serve, and will 
come into the presence of the one they have 
just quitted without the smallest emotion ; they 
never get together but to reveal the secrets 
they have been in the way to discover ; and 
are, in fact, no better than spies : and, as they 
are well paid, and well fed, but despised, they 
perceive it to be so, and therefore are become 
our greatest enemies : formerly, they led a 
frugal, laborious, hard life, but they were held 
in some esteem and regard, and therefore the 
faithful servant commonly died of old age by 
the side of his master." 

This author does not seem to be quite aware 
of some of the comforts flowing from the 
changes he describes : certainly his old mas- 
ters were shockingly unfashionable, thougli 
his new ones might be somewhat to blame. 



202 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELP'. 

The other account I have to give throws 
the blame upon the servants : — the original is 
in Latin ; don't be frightened, ladies, it is 
Ciodpole translates, and it was one of your 
greatest favourites who wrote it, — even the fa- 
mous Petrarch, — the sonnetteer, — the lover of 
Laura, — a great poet, a great lover, and a 
gre>at philosopher ; and, what is more than all, a 
great man; for he kept great company, and, 
probably, had in his time a great many great 
servants : it is worth reading at all events, be- 
cause it is nearly five hundred years old, and, 
so good as servants are now, you could scarce- 
ly believe it possible [Thinks-I-to-myself) that 
they could ever have been so bad. 

"Seneca," says he, "has said a great deal in 
excuse of servants, throwing the whole blame 
on their masters, and he commends his friend, 
Lucilius, for living familiarly with his domes- 
tics : — What can I say ? — I do not like to dis- 
pute the opinion of so great a man, and yet, I 
must confess, things appear to me quite other- 
wise : — possibly, they had the advantage, either 
of greater skill and prudence to make their 
servants good, or better luck in meeting with 
such as happened to be good : — to myself, nei- 
ther of these things ever occurred, though I 
have been particularly solicitous about both : 
— let others, therefore, see to their own con- 
cerns ; as to myself, I cannot praise what I 
have never known ; — to me the race of ser- 
vants is above all things abominable, and I re- 
gard Dfotbing as more true than the old proverb 
with which Seneca finds fault, namely, thai 



THINK S-I-TO-MYSELF. 203 

' as many servants as yoii have, so many ent- 
mies you have.' 

" I do not pretend to dispute what he says in 
particular, or to deny his authorities ; — but, 
M^hether it be owing to the change of times, or 
mere chance, or my own impatience, I do de- 
clare that I never yet saw a good servant, 
though I am continually upon the look-out for 
them; and, if I were by accident ever to meet 
with one, I should be as much amazed as if I 
had met a ma,n with two heads. 

" And, lest any should be disposed from what 
I say to attribute this either to my particular 
carelessness or severity, I must protest that I 
have tried tverxj expedient : — Lucilius could not 
live with his servants more familiarly than I 
have done v/ith 7nine : I have advised with 
them, I have conversed with them, I have 
even admitted them to my table f' I have 
confided to them my person and my jjroperty, 
and trusted them on purpose to make them 
faithful : — but this my confidence in them has 
never answered ; every artifice, on the con- 
trary, has been practised against me ; not one 
of my servants but has become more insolent 
in consequence of my familiarity, and more un- 
manageable in consequence of my mdulgence:' 
and as familiarity has bred contempt, so has 
my confidence in them only made them thieves • 
— let Seneca, then, say what he pleases of his 
servants, I must speak what I think of my oivn 
and others ; for I know not how it is, but, if 1 
speak the truth, I think all are alike : — 1 con- 

* Remember tiiis was written 600 years ago. 



204 THIISKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

fess, for my own part, I find nothing in life so 
vexatious as the obstinacy and perverseness of 
servants. Other wslys and contentions have 
their intervals of peace and repose, but with 
these domestic foes we must fight without in- 
termission. — I am not, however, unmindful," 
{Thinks-I-to-myself, it is as well to add this, 
though it does at present in no manner apply to 
any of us,) " that we ought to learn to bear 
with patience what we know to have befallen 
the greatest and the best of men : even Ulys- 
ses, in that celebrated era which is termed 
heroical, among the other hard toils and labours 
he sustained, is said to have been sorely afflict- 
ed at the insolence of his servants and hand- 
maidens : and, in more modern days, as report 
goes, the Emperor Frederick never ceased 
(living and dying) to complain of the injuries 
he had sustained from servants." 

How happy, [Thinks-I-to-myself,) how su- 
perlatively happy we ought to be, that neither 
of the above accounts does at all apply to the 
masters, or mistresses, or servants, of the times 
and country in which we live. No : — now, 
among ourselves, every thing is correct and 
comfortable : masters love their servants, and 
servants their masters ; mistresses their maids, 
and maids their mistresses ; how much I do 
not even attempt to describe ; as nothing can 
exceed the quiet, submissive, and civil obedience 
of the present race of servants, their frugality 
and diligence, their patient compliance and con- 
tentedness with every thing enjoined them, and 
every thing provided for them, so nothing, 
surely, can eve-r exceed the care which modern 



THIINKS-I-TO-3IYSELF. 205 

masters have of their servants'' interests, both 
temporal and spiritual : — in the words of an old 
author : 

" They care not what wages they give, 
They care not what life 'tis they live." 

»b'efc the Epistles of the very learned Gumhle- 
dumpsius ; — but, N. B., look sharp, or perhaps 
you will not find it. 

When Emily and myself first went to London, 
we took with us some old-fashioned servants 
from Grumblethorpe, being willing rather to 
put up with their odd and uncouth ways, than 
take a new set merely to please ourselves ; — 
as they have been in the family ever since they 
were children, they will probably all soon drop 
off by degrees, and then we shall have a gene- 
ral reform of our whole household : I. confess, 
it will be a happy moment for myself, because 
then I may feel at liberty ; — at present, their 
continual concern and anxiety about my health 
and my happiness, and the health and happiness 
of my wife and children, and the order and 
regularity of my house, and the morals and be- 
haviour of the under servants, perfectly pre- 
vents our doing many things, that are quite 
common in other families, though somewhat 
contrary to the laws both of God and man ; — 
it is very trying to live under such restraints ! 

The provoking thing is that, notwithstanding 
all their old-fashioned habits, and troublesome 
anxiety about one's happiness, long acquaint- 
ance naturally produces even a strong degree 
of love and esteem for them, so that few, I 
18 



206 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELK. 

should think, could find in their hearts to turn 
them adrift, if they happen not to wish to 
depart of themselves : — the very nurse that 
nursed me, that took me first from my mother's 
lap, is still an inmate of my house ; — though so 
afflicted with the rheumatism and a defect of 
sight, and worn down with age, as to he per- 
fectly and entirely useless, I have been weak 
enough to promise that she shall have her run 
for life among us, and that I will deposit her 
remains, when she dies, somewhere near her 
old master and mistress, in the church yard at 
Grumblethorpe. 

Luckily for her. Emily and my children hnd 
amusement in her old stories, and, I believe, 
often encourage her to talk of past times, 
which is her greatest delight ; — they have 
learned from her, I find, the exact pattern of 
the cap and frock the Clodpole had on at his 
christening ; — who made the cockade to denote 
ray boyhood ; how many yards of lace there 
were in it, and what sort of lace it was ; — she 
remembers the colour of my first pair of 
breeches, and the very pattern of my buttons, 
which, by all accounts, appear to have been of 
the sugar-loaf shape : often do the tears trickle 
down her cheeks when she relates what shock- 
ing chilblains poor little master Bobby had in 
the hard weather, and how she used to bathe 
them, and anoint them, and chafe them with 
her hands, and wrap them up in her apron, as 
I sat crying and sobbing upon her lap before 
the nursery fire ; — she knows exactly how 
many nights she sat up with me when I had 
the measles, and the small pox, and when 1 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 20? 

cut my eye teeth ; she can recount, and I be- 
lieve often does, all the pranks of my child- 
hood, and boyhood, and youth. 

But she is in all her glory when she de- 
scribes the splendid and costly dresses which 
she remembers my grandfather and grandmo- 
ther to have worn ; svich. gold and silver lace, as 
broad as one's hand ! rich silks that would 
have stood an end of- themselves ! — " Ay," 
(she will say sometimes,) "things were very 
different then ; — then a Duchess might be dis- 
tinguished from a Milk-maid, and a Duke from 
a P^alley-de-sham ; — then tne wages and hire 
of servants and apprentices were not all spent 
in dress, as it is now-a-days, but were sent home 
to the relief of their aged parerits, to prevent 
their becoming dependent on, or a burthen to, 
their parishes, or laid up for times of sickness 
or want ; but who can wonder that things are 
as they are, when a shoemaker's apprentice 
can have the assurance to dress like a lord, or 
wasiier-woman's daughter like a lady, and 
not be ashamed of it, and their parents or their 
employers be such fools as to encourage it ?" 
So will she continually run on, shaking her 
head, and lifting up her hands, at the sad times 
and sad changes she has lived to witness ; for 
as such she regards them. 

I had great apprehensions, at lirst, that she 
would have been the occasion of the death of 
my wife, or some of my children, not only from 
her over-fond attachment to them, but to cer- 
tain ancient nursery prejudices. When my 
eldest child was born, though it was in the 
very middle of the month of July, she would 



SOS THlNKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

have an enormous fire lighted in the roon , and 
a warming pan held within the curtains of the 
bed, whenever there was any necessity to un- 
draw them, so much as the space of two inches, 
for the purpose of introducing- any supply of 
food or drink, or medicine ; so that, had not 
the apothecary interposed pretty peremptorily, 
I verily think both Emily and her offspring 
would have been entirely suffocated ; then, the 
pap she made for the infant, thick enough for 
the spoon to stand upright in, was to be forced 
by boat-fulls into the tiny stomach of the new- 
born, to prevent the ivind getting in ; and, 
when it had been introduced in such unmerci- 
ful quantities as necessarily to occasion a de- 
gree of distention, so uneasy as to throw the 
poor child almost into convulsions, more fuel 
was to be added to the flame, because it was a 
case proved in her own mind, that wind had 
got in nevertheless, and that a child could cry 
for nothing but wind, and wind could come 
from nothing but emptiness ; so that the more 
she kept stuffing, the more the child cried, and 
the more the child cried, the more she kept 
stuffing it. 

When, at last, by dint of stuffing and cram- 
ming, she had brought it to such a state of con- 
tinual suffering and continual crying, that no- 
thing seemed likely to appease it, she revealed 
to us this great nursery mystery, videlicet, that 
Providence had provided for such sort of in- 
fantine cryings but one only cure in the whole 
compass of the universe ; and that this one and 
only cure and remedy was, a bit of a youno 
ROASTED sucKiiMG PIG ! ! for which she would 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 209 

have had, of course, a special messenger sent 
out, upon the fleetest horse in the stables, to 
rummage and explore all the pig-styes in the 
country round. 

It was in vain that I tried to laugh or to argue 
lier out of any of these prepossessions : I even 
took the pains to describe to her, as well as 1 
could, the narrow dimensions of an infant's 
stomach, and the minute vessels on which all 
its nourishment depended : in a joking way, 
though most seriously convinced of its truth, I 
used often to tell her, that, in all likelihood, old 
nurses and gossips had sent more human crea- 
tures out of life than either guns, or swords^ 
plague, pestilence, ox famine; and that, hut for 
the blunders and mismanagement of such sort 
of good folks, half, if not two-thirds, of the in- 
fants that have perished, would probably have 
lived, and done well ; but I might as well have 
talked to the wind : it generally all ended in 
a — " Don't tell me, my dear young gentleman, 
of your halves, and your thirds, and your nar- 
row stomachs, and small vessels ; how should you 
men know any thing about it ? Did'nt / bring 
up you, and your sister, and Master Tommy, 
and Miss Jenny, (till they were near six months 
old,) and should have brought up all the whole 
eleven your mamma had, had they not turned 
out so sickly and fdty that there was no rear- 
ing them any how !" 

She spoke truly enough, for, by all accounts, 
we were all sickly and fitty, and, I verily believe, 
nothing but a very accidental strength of 
stomach, in the case of my sister and myself, 
prevented oar going the way of the other nine ; 
18* 



210 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

that is, being killed with kindness : stuffed and 
crammed, and codled out of this wicked world 
almost as soon as we were born into it. 

Much as I love and esteem the good old lady 
herself, and many of her contemporaries, I 
cannot but feel satisfied, that it will be a great 
blessing to posterity and future generations to 
be born when, in the course of nature, and 
revolution of things, the whole race of stuffers, 
and crammers, and codlers,^ are defunct, and 
done away from the face of the earth : I cannot 
call my nine brothers and sisters back again, 
but I will take all the care I-ean to prevent any 
of their nephews and nieces following them 
in the same premature manner, by seeing that 
they are reared in a way more evidently con- 
sonant to the plain dictates of nature ; and I 
would advise every body else, who happens to 
feel any desire to have their children to live and 
do well, and to grow up healthy and strong, to 
do the same ; that is, to keep an eye upon 
these particulars, and to be careful that every 
infant either has its own natural food, not pre- 
pared by old nurses, but by young nurses, that 
is, by Providence : or, if they be by any invin- 
cible necessity deprived of that blessing, (no- 

* I include Codlers, not that I would have infants starved 
either by cold or hunger, but that I conceive hot, and soft, 
and crowded beds, and heaps of flannel folded over their 
mouths, and ears, and noses, cannot be over-favourable to the 
due admission of that aerial fluid on w^hich most of the func- 
tions of life have hitherto been thought to depend : possi- 
bly, also, the stomach, and mouth, and throat, which often 
suflTer the direst evils from being over-heated, might stand 
some chance of being a little cooler and more comfortahk 
in the abs«3nce of such overwhelming encumbrances. 



THINKS- 1 -TO-MYSELF. 21J 

thing less than invincible necessity should de- 
prive them of it,) that then the substitutes for 
that natural food be as like it as possible ; thin, 
light, never given too hastily, never in too 
large quantities at one time ; how like to all 
this, boats full of pap as thick as mud, and per- 
haps as hot as^?-e, and as sweet as syrup, pour- 
ed dov^n a child's throat while lying Jlat upon 
lis back, spirituous liquors, spices, beer, wine, 
incessant doses of Godfrey''s Cordial, Dalby^s 
Carminative, Slc. &c. &c., are, I leave every 
body possessed of common sense, and hitherto 
unprejudiced, to judge and determine. 

I have inserted all this merely that nobody 
may grudge the money they shall have paid 
for my book, because, though I believe almost 
every physician in the kingdom would now 
give the same advice, yet not without a guinea 
fee, at least, half as much again as my book is 
to cost ; and, besides, if any infants, in conse- 
quence of this hint, should be saved from the 
thrush, or from fts, or from humours, or from 
painful dentition, so much crying and roaring 
by day and by night will infallibly be prevent- 
ed ; so much more peace and quiet, of course, 
vA\l take place in every family ; good mothers 
will be made more happy, and bad mothers 
will be less teased ; good nurses will get more 
rest, and cross nurses will be the seldomer pro- 
voked ; and every poor little infant, that conies 
shivering and shaking into this strange world 
of ours, will be sure to have, not only all its 
pains and perils exceedingly abridged, but, by 
giving less trouble, and being better enabled 
to make its own way, will stand so much 



212 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELJb'. 

better a chance of having more friends and 
fewer enemies, more good %ords and more 
good wishes, than could ever he the case under 
the old stuj^ng, over-feeding, crying, frettingy 
dying way of going on ; — add to all this, less 
physic will be necessary, and therefore less of 
the plague and trouble of administering it ; and 
now judge what valuable advice I have given 
you;* though certainly at the expense of a 
large digression from my main work, — to 
which it is highly necessary now to return. 

The reader will easily suppose, from what I 
have expressed of our dislike to the bustle and 
noise of the metropolis, that the principal part 



* By you I mean, at least, all persons already marrieu, 
all that are going to be married, all that expect to be mar- 
ried, all that mean to be married, all that wish to be mar- 
ried, all that ouglif, to be married, and all that have any 
influence over those that are married : 1 scarce think that 
even professed old maids and professed old bachelors are 
quite excluded, because, I am confident, many of the latter 
have nerves liable to be affected by the cries of an infant, 
either in the way of sympathy or provocation, (I hope, 
mostly of the former,) and, I verily believe, half, if not two 
thirds, of those piercing-, and penetrating-, and pitiful cries 
might be prevented, not in ^reat houses only, but in our 
cottages, and poor-houses, if a proper system -were gene- 
rally adopted in regard to the food, mode of feeding, 
clothing and management of infants ; while the grand secret 
of such an improvement, I will venture to say, merely con- 
sists in causing a little common sense to prevail over invete 
rate prefudice, and nature over superstition ; — a hard under- 
taking," I know, but not hopeless, with the assistance of 
luch advice as modern practitioners have done well to com- 
municate in very sensible and perspicuous publications. — 
As little tiny infants and brute beasts cannot speak for 
themselves, Thinks-I-to-myself why may'nt I speak for 
liiem, if an opportunity offer ? 



THINKS-1-TO-MY3ELF. 213 

of our time was passed at Grumblethorpe, es- 
pecially as long as my worthy parents lived. 
No events in th^whole course of my life af- 
fected me more deeply (as I hope my readers 
will believe) than those which bereft me of 
my excellent parents ; — whenever I had allowed 
myself to dwell upon the painful prospect of 
our separation, it had always occurred to me, 
that, whichever went Jirst^ the other would not 
long survive ; and so it turned out to be : — they 
had lived together, from the first moment of 
their union, in such a state of complete harmo- 
ny and agreement, that it was a most obvious 
conclusion to draw, that, separate and apart 
from each other, they could not possibly exist 
on this side the grave. 

My poor mother died of a lingering illness, 
the foundation of which was laid, probably^ in 
her close attendance on my sister, the third 
year after her marriage, during a violent fit of 
sickness. Nothing could prevent her sitting 
up with her, night after night, though it was 
in the depth of winter, not only that she might 
be in the way to admmister to my sister's own 
wants, but that she might superintend, occa- 
sionally, what was going on in the nursery, 
where there were two young infants ill also, 
whom my sister could not bear (as is too com- 
monly the case) to leave entirely to servants. 

Just as my sister began to recover, my 
mother became ill, and, from one failure and 
ailment to another, gradually sunk into a state 
of debility, from which no care, nor art, not 
remedy, could possibly restore her. 



214 THINKS-r-TO-MYSELF. 

There never existed a better mother, there 
never existed a better wife ! I dare not attempt 
to draw her picture myself; it has already been 
delineated by another, whose painting I shall 
adopt, most happy to avail myself of it. 

" She had a love so great for her lord, so en- 
tirely given up to a dear affection, that she 
thought the same things, and loved the same 
loves, and breathed in his soul, and lived in his 
presence, and languished in his absence ; and 
all that she was, or did, was only for, and to, 
her dearest lord. 

" As she was a rare wife, so she was an ex- 
cellent mother; for, in so tender a constitution 
of spirit as hers was, and in so great a kind- 
ness towards her children, there hath seldom 
been seen a stricter and more curious care of 
their persons, their deportment, their nature, 
their disposition, their learning, and their cus- 
toms ; and, if ever kindness and care did con- 
test, and make parties in her, yet her care and 
her severity were ever victorious, and she 
knew not how to do an ill turn to their severer 
part, by her more tender and forward kindness, 
— and, as her custom was, she turned this also 
into love to her lord ; for she was not only dili- 
gent to have them bred nobly and religiously, 
but also was careful and solicitous that they 
should be taught to observe all the circum- 
stances and inclinations, the desires and wishes 
of their father, as thinking that virtue to have 
no good circumstances, which was not dressed 
by his copy, and ruled by his life, and his affec- 
tions ; and her prudence in the managing her 
children was so singular and rare, that, when- 



THmKS-l-TO-M\SELF. 215 

ever you mean to bless a family, and pray a 
hearty and profitable prayer for it, beg of God 
that the children may have those excellent 
things, which (my mother) designed for [us,] 
and provided for {us,) in her heart and wishes ; 
that they may live in her purposes, and grow 
thither, whither she would fain have brought 
us ;" she was, in short, " in her house a com- 
fort to her dearest lord, a guide to her children, 
a rule to her servants, and an example to all." 
This, I can safely say, is an exact portrait of 
ray dear and excellent mother. 

My father, as a man, a husband, and a pa- 
rent, was, in all respects, as correct, as amiable, 
and (I had almost said) as rare and singular. 
His attachment to my mother was exactly in 
proportion to her attachment to him ; and, in re- 
gard to his children, the same struggles of care 
and kindness were conspicuous in his whole 
deportment : when reproof was necessary, he 
was not backward to administer it ; but his love 
and kindness were still so predominant, that it 
was plain to see, that chiding was his strange 
work ; I must say, that neither my sister nor 
myself gave him much trouble in this way ; the 
chief thing 1 have to reproach myself with is, 
a sort of inattention to his feelings, occasional- 
ly, arising merely from the disparity of years 
between us, wliich, I am sensible, must at 
times have interfere-d with his enjoyments. I 
would gladly recall now, if I could, many op- 
portunities I suifered to pass, of being more in 
his company, and more in the way of his advice 
and inf'iruction : I may mistake, but it seems 
to mp now he is gone, as though I certainly 



216 THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

omitted attentions of this kind, which, I fear, 
the best of children are liable to do; a failing 
Cowper has so admirably touched in his Task^ 
that I cannot help reminding my reader of so 
beautiful a passage. 

" Some friend is gone, — perhaps — 
A Father, whose authority, in show 
When most severe, and must'ring all its force, 
Was but the graver countenance of love j 
Whose favour, like the clouds of spring, might lowV 
And utter now and then aii awful voice, 
But had a blessing in its darkest frown, 
Threatening, at once, and nourishing the plant ; 
We lov'd, but not enough, the gentle hand 
That rear'd us, — at a thoughtless age, allured 
By every gilded folly, we renounc'd 
His shelt'rmg side, and wilfully forewent 
That converse which we now in vain regret •, 
How gladl}' would the man recall to life 
The boy^s neglected sire ! a mother, too. 
That softer friend, perhaps more gladly still, 
Might he demand them at the gates of Death. 

When I reflect on these things, it appears 
to me one of the strongest natural arguments 
for the immortality of the soul, and the renew- 
al of our earthly relations in a world to come, 
that even where the greatest possible attach- 
ment subsists between parents and their chil- 
dren, the mere disparity of years inevitably 
prevents that complete association of feelings, 
and intimate fellowship of heart and soul, 
which is the cement and prerogative of all 
other friendships: in a world to come, but 
no where else, these things may be set to 
rights, and such attachments receive their full 
completion. 



THIJNKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 217 

For many years my father acted as a magis- 
trate merely for the sake of doing good ; think- 
ing it possible, as he used to say, that, in a low 
degree, it might give him opportunities of be- 
coming " a refuge to the needy," " eyes," per- 
haps, " to the blind," or '• feet to the lame ;" 
and, indeed, this was the bent and aim of all 
his proceedings. While his personal charac- 
ter and rank in life gave him weight with his 
higher neighbours, so that he could easily pre- 
vent all oppression and partiality, his strict 
justice, extreme courtesy, and known benevo- 
lence to those below him, had the effect, upon 
all occasions, of animating the good, and intimi- 
dating the base : which intimidation arose, not 
so much out of any dread of his power, or appre- 
hension of his severity, (for the milk of human 
kindness flowed through all his veins,) but from 
the mere feeling and persuasion that to do wrong 
would disoblige the squire, or my lord, as it ran 
latterly ; — he made a point of hearing every 
complaint and every defence with the utmost 
temper, patience and civility, and, when he had 
discovered to the best of his apprehension 
where the fault really lay, he gave sentence in 
such a manner as should serve at once to 
vindicate the equity, propriety, and necessity 
of the law, co'ivince the guilty of the atro- 
ciousness and folly of his conduct, and recon- 
cile the parties for the time to come : — my 
father's chosen motto, indeed, seemed to be,— 
" Parcere subjectis, et dehellare superhoa,^'' which 
I shall take leave to translate, — " To aid 
the lowly, and restrain the proud ,*" but I have 
often heard bim say, he was not unfrequently 
19 



218 THINKS-T-TO-MYSELF. 

puzzled ; for he did not always find the superht 
among the rich, or the subjedi among the 
poor. 

His death was almost sudden to those that 
were about him. That he never enjoyed him- 
self after the decease of my poor mother, was 
evident to us all ; but what he actually felt 
and suffered he kept a profound secret ; he com- 
plained of nothing, but it was very perceptible 
that his old amusements had lost all their at- 
tractions ; that time hung heavy on his hands, 
and his appetite failed : that he himself fore- 
saw that his end was approaching, I conclude 
from many conversations he had with me, and 
from some particular directions and advice he 
seemed more than commonly anxious to im- 
press upon my mind. A few hours only before 
he died, (which happened at last, suddenly, as 
he sat in his chair,) he called me to him, and 
formally thanked me for my attention and kind 
ness to him ; spoke in raptures of my mother, 
and expressed a hope that they should soon 
meet again ; he exhorted me to be kind and 
indulgent, when he was gone, to all his tenants 
and servants : — " As a JS/ohlemany said he, " I 
hope you will always act nobly, which is almost 
all I can say upon the subject ; degrade not 
yourself by low company, or low amusements, 
yet be condescending: a great man is never so 
great as when he stoops to those who are only 
below him in the accidental circumstances of 
fortune or station ; endeavour always to be re- 
served without pride, and familiar without 
meanness. As a Peer, if you ever come to sit 
in the House, be independent ; not vexatiously 



THINKS-1-TO-M/SELF. 219 

thwarting and harassing the Executive at 
every turn, (which it is as easy for him to 
do who deserves no place as for him who 
scorns to solicit one,) but preserve such a 
clear freedom of opinion, as may fully satis- 
fy your own mind, that you have not bound 
yourself by any irrevocable obligation to vote 
one way or the other ; give no proxy ; it will 
be your privilege, but it seems to me a mere 
burlesque upon the debates of the House ; a 
fair one, perhaps, often, but not creditable ; vote 
and decide for yourself I hope I need not 
say, be religious ; — I trust you have ever had 
such examples before your eyes, in this respect, 
as may have made an indelible impression upon 
your mind ; yet, be careful ; the world abounds 
with snares and temptations ; the more you 
possess in this world, the more you must hav« 
to account for, and the more you may have to 
lose in the world to come, where earthly de- 
lights, and earthly riches, and earthly preten- 
sions will be utterly unknown. 

These were among the last words he utter- 
ed : in three hours after, he was carried a 
corpse to his chamber, and the glittering coro- 
net, with all its dangerous accompaniments 
and weighty encumbrances, descended upon 
my head. 

In looking over his papers after his death, 
the following lines were found, blotted in 
places, and evidently written in haste. Being 
in his own hand, and having in one corner of 
the paper a date corresponding nearly with 
the period of my mother's death, I can scarce 
doubt but they were written upon that occa- 



220 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

sion, though he certainly never showed them 
to any of us, and does not appear to have even 
taken the pains to write them out fair ; on 
which account, perhaps, I ought not to make 
them public ; but I cannot quite reconcile it to 
myself to suppress them, as they manifestly 
bespeak a most resigned temper of miud, 
under one of the sorest calamities incident to 
human nature. 



How without rule are the decrees of God '. 
How He chastises ! — How He spares the rod .• — 
Scarce does it ever seem that rigid prevails ; 
How oft GuWi Jlowishes, and Y'wlacfaiL ! — 
What must I think of this severe decree^ 
Which, thro' the will of God, now humbles Me ? 
Am 1 to think HIM kind, who could destroy 
Every fond hope I had of lasting joy ? 
Am I to think HIM merciful, \\\\o knew 
The pangs I felt, and yet his aid withdrew 1 — 
Am I to think HIM good, who could ordain 
To innocence and worth disease and pain 1 — 
Am I to think HIM wise, who could withdraw 
The fairest pattern that the world e'er saw ? 
The best example of the purest life ; 
The fondest mother, and the chastest wife j 
The mildest mistress, and the warmest friend ? 
Could bring such virtues to an early end ? 
HE who could re-illume the languid eye. 
And have deferr'd at will the parting sigh ? 
Have turn'd aside the threat'nnig dart of death, 
Have help'd the feeble pulse, the short'ning breath ? 
Am I to think \i\M. graciovs, good, and kind, 
Who saw the bitter anguish of my mind, 
And yet, alike unmov'd by pray'r or tear, 
Tore from m\' bosom all I hehl most dear 1 
Yes— GOOD HE IS ' !— and on this hope I live •, 
He knows the scene's nnfinisk'd — He can give, 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 221 

In some superior world of peace and bliss, 

A compensation for ihe pams of this ! 

Perhaps the sorrows that we here ei.dure 

May make the happiness ofheav'n more sure j 

To part so soon, perhaps, whatever the pain, 

May make it happier to meet again 3 

Perhaps the very stroke that caus'd my grief 

May liave prov'd kind to her, and brought relief: 

Fm left to suffer what I scarce can bear 5 

Site is in shelter, and above all care ! 

Slie left her children innocent and free ; 

/have to guide them through life's stormy sea ! 

She left me safej and (for I hid my wo) 

She saw me look at ease, and thought me so : 

But had she known my smiles were all pretence, 

Scarce Heav'ns high summons could have call'd her 

hence ! 
Almost, had she but seen my aching heart. 
She would have given up heav'n, not to part ! 
To comfort ine she would have shunn'd no pain 5 
To comfort me she would return again 5 
But that she knows, perhaps, my better doom 5 
Sees in my present pangs a bliss to come; 
Sees for the chasten'd God reserves the hest, 
And for the lieavier-laden, sweeter rest ! 

Some of the lines undoubtedly do not exact- 
ly apply to the period and circumstances of m^ 
moiher^s death, so that perhaps, after all,' they 
may relate to some other event ; but it must at 
least have been one extremely similar in most 
points. They were certainly written on the 
loss of a bclovf.d wife, and that wife a mother 
also. 

I shail dwell, however, no longer on a sub- 
ject so melancholy, but proceed to the winding 
up of my family history. 

Nothing made me happier than to find that 
my marriage with Emily was of great benefit 
to her father and the rest of the family. The 
19* 



222 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF 

singular worth of this excellent divine would, 
in all probability, have been left without any 
earthly reward, and he mig-ht have mouldered 
away the rest of his life in the Vicarage of 
Grumblethorpe, had it not been for this alli- 
ance ; this seemed immediately to give him a 
more than ordinary claim to the higher appoint- 
ments in the Church ; which, jointly or succes- 
sively, he obtained, till he arrived at a station 
which has enabled him to provide well for all 
his other children. 

Nor let any ever pretend to think, that, be- 
cause I happen to have thus dwelt upon the claim 
of high alliance, Mr. Mandeville had no other 
pretensions or claims ; for I am bold to say, that 
his elevation, however obtained, has been in no 
manner likely to have the effect of excluding 
or keeping back any other Divine of better pre- 
tensions ; an event certainly to be apprehend- 
ed in cases of this nature, and which, Thinks- 
l-to~myself^ [perhaps.) sometimes happens. 

And I might confidently say quite as much 
with regard to the promotion of my reverend 
and valuable friend, Mr. Hargrave, — who be- 
gan to rise in his profession from the very mo- 
ment my father became a Peer, and acquired 
an interest in the Scotch boroughs ; and has 
obtained excellent preferment, evidently not so 
much on account of his own private virtue, and 
merit, as because he had the good luck to be 
tutor to one of us noble Clodpoles ; as such, I 
acknowledge he might very well have de- 
served it, for such an appointment bespeaks 
talents, at least, and the more Clodpole the more 
labour ; I must, however, confess, that I am 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 'i^.V^ 

honest and public spirited enough to fee^ some 
alarm upon such occasions ; for there is such a 
number of its noble Clodpoles always growing up, 
(though all the nobility are not such Clodpoles as 
myself, Heaven forbid !) but there are eo many 
of us, altogether, bright and dull, whose tutors 
and instructers have all the same claims and 
expectations, that I fear what with this never- 
ceasing demand on the dignities, and revenues, 
and snug appointments of the church, to- 
gether with that of natural or accidental alli- 
ances into the bargain, modest worth, ui;ob- 
trusive merit, and unprotected talents may 
sometimes be overlooked and debarred of their 
fair rewards. 

The Church, besides, [Thinks-I-to-mysclf,] is 
expected to pay tribute to every other profession, 
without receiving any thing in return ; to the 
State, to the Law, to the Army, to the JSTavy ;~ 
nay, even to the Physical line ; for, if any 
man's brother, uncle, son, son-in-law, or nephew, 
wife^s father, or wife^s brother, happens to be- 
come LORD CHANCELLOR, Or SECRETARY OF 

STATE, or is killed in the command of a fleet 
at Sea, or of an army in the Field, or cures, oi 
pretends to cure, or is supposed to cure, a 
Prince, or a Peer, or a Prelate, He [that is, the 
relation of said distinguished person) may 
forthwith rise as high in the Church as ever 
he pleases, without any further Qualifi (I 
was going to write qualification, but you see 1 
have scratched it out ; any other — ation may 
perhaps do as well, as examinah'on, prp•bct^07^, 
&c. &c. &c. &c.) Stalls, Deann-ies, nay, 
even Bishoprics are immediately put within 



224 THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

his reach, though undoubtedly the very same 
pretensions could never have elevated him to 
the Bench in Westminster Hall, without some 
superior knowledge of, or practice in, the Law^ 
nor procured him the command of a fleet or of 
an army, without some naval or military talents 
or services into the bargain. 

I do not say these things, mark me, gentle 
reader, out of any spite, whatsoever, to the 
aristocracy, (for I must, of course, be naturally 
a friend to it,) nor merely because I happened 
to marry a Parson^s daughter, but because I 
was bred up from a child to feel sensibly for 
the honour and credit of the established church, 
and therefore could not help falling occasional- 
ly into reflections of this nature, as upon other 
topics ; else, as a Peer, I know that I should 
do most wisely to let things Yeindkin just exactly 
as they are ; for, as there is now a great pros- 
pect t-hat my dear Emily and myself may have 
several little Clodpoles to provide for, and as 
sinecures must needs be the fittest things in the 
world for such sine-talents, I might as well 
leave the Stalls, and Deaneries, &c. &c. &c. 
«&c. &c. &c., to help us out in the way of such 
family accommodations, as they hitherto have 
done ; besides that, now and then, {to speak 
honestly,) for the very credit of the church, 
[ would heartily wish to see persons of high 
birth and distinction preferred ; I say now and 
then ; — but to return to my text, to speak eccle- 
siastically. 

Mr. Mandeville has now been for some time 
(solely, a-s I believe, in virtue of my marriage 
with Emily) Dean of A — , Canon Resi- 



THlJNKS-l-TO-MYSELF 225 

dentiary of B , Prebendary of C , 

Chanceilor and Archdeacon of D , be- 
sides holding two livings in [what is comnwiibf 
called) the king's Gift ! 

Mr. Hargrave I hope soon to see a hishop, if 
the present administration continue in ; not 
that I am quite sure that I shall not support 
their successors if they should happen to go 
out, — so that his chance is good either way. 

I would not have you fancy, however, worthy 
reader, that I am prepared to vote with any 
minister through thick and thin ; — no, nor yet 
with any opposition in the same ivay, — I do not 
like to clog the wheels of the Executive Go- 
vernment unnecessarily ; there is always much 
hard work to be done, and somebody must do it; 
and whoever does do it must have the patience 
of Job, at least, to bear the abuses to which 
they will be subject, right or wrong ; and. 
Thinks-I-to-myself, one man is much like ano- 
ther when once in office, and if any great or 
owf-of-the-way occurrences come to pass, I am 
still free to judge for myself, for place or pen- 
sion I have none : — I am pledged to no mohj 
and I have not one friend or dependant who 
wishes to be served at the expense of my in- 
tegrity. 

I have not mentioned a word about my in- 
troduction at Courts because every body will 
conceive it to have taken place as a matter of 
course : I can only say, I have never much fre- 
quented that august assembly, partly because 
I hate crowds and parade, and partly because 
I never wish to be considered as a mere courtier, 
— and as for going to Court merely for going- 



'^Q THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 

to-court-sake, so many have found their way 
there of late, who, Thinks-I-to-myself, were 
probably neither wanted nor expected, that 
Peers and Peeresses, I should think, might well 
have leave to stay away, if it were merely to 
make room. 

I shall, however, take upon me to assert, 
^though, Thinks-I-to-myself, millions, perhaps, 
of my fellow subjects may be ready to dispute 
such liigh pretensions,) that, whenever I have 
had occasion to approach the person of my 
Sovereign, he could not have had near him a 
more attached friend, a more devoted 
SERVANT, or a more loyal subject. — 

Heaven bless him ! — May he live long, 

AND may he be happy, HERE AND HEREAF- 
TER I !!!! ! 

The Regent too 

Why, Heaven bless him also! 

And, Thinks-Lto-myself, since it is the way 
with Kings and Princes to have the speeches 
they are to deliver on great and solemn occa- 
sions prepared to their hands, I have one ready 
for our noble Prince, which, I think, most 
people will account particularly fit and suita- 
ble, when the time comes for his surrendering 
up his present high and most important trust 
into the hands of his recovered parent. — 

" There is your Crown. 

And he that wears the crown mmortally 
Long guard it yours ! If 1 affect it more 
Than as j'our Honour, and as your Renown, 
Let me no more from this obedience rise, 
Which my most true and inward duteous spirit 
Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending." 



THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 227 

I defy any minister to provide one more ap- 
propriate. — A few words about my Parlia- 
mentary duties, and I have done : — I never 
spoke while 1 was a member of the House of 
Commons, and I never speak now in the House 
of Peers, (though I have for some time had the 
hojiour of being one of the sixteen,) but, while 
other members and other Lords have been 
speaking, I confess, I have often thought to 
myself a. great deal, and almost wondered that 
I never drew the attention of some of the ora- 
tors to the part I must have appeared to be 
taking in the debate : — I have sometimes al- 
most felt as if some speaker would say, — " As 
the noble Lord there by the fire (or on the oppo- 
site bench, or near the wool-sack.) appears to be 
THINKING." — The fact is, perhaps, I have gene- 
rally been thinking what none of them would 
mucli like to confess. 

Another thing, however, which has much 
deterred me from speaking, is the newly-erect- 
ed little house of parliament in a certain city, 
for which (generally speaking) I entertain the 
highest respect; but where, of late, the 
speeches and acts of the members of both the 
Lords' and Commons' house have been ar- 
raigned, criticised, and condemned, with such 
extreme severity, rancour, and contempt, that, 
Thinks-I-to-mysdf, surely legislating must be 
ten time-s easier than we-ighing out of plums or 
brewing of beer — both very important callings 
at all timeii, — and, while pudding and ale have 
any charms and influence, far more likely to 
be popular than any higher callings or pro- 
fessions whatsoever. — ray hope is, therefore. 



228 THINKS-l-TO-MYSELF. 

that we shall soon have no need of Courts, and 
Cabinet Councils, and Privy Councils, and 
Grand Councils of the Realm, but that all the 
business of the nation, and all the affairs of 
Europe, may be far better settled by the Court 

of Common Council, of the City of . 

Envy, hatred, malice, and all unchari- 

TABLENESS : from ALL SEDITION, PRIVY CON- 
SPIRACY, and REBELLION, &C. &C. &C. 

Comm. Pray. B. fol. 17. 

There is nothing to which I have ever paid 
more attention than to all cases of public or 
private grievance submitted to Parliament, be- 
cause I hold it to be one of the first principles 
of our constitution, and one for which I will 
ever most strenuously contend, that the mean- 
est subject has a right to complain of any real 
injury, and strictly deserves to be heard ; and 
that Parliament is most imperiously bound to 
redress all such injuries and hardships when 
duly proved and made known. 

True it is, that I have occasionally heard 
cases so aggravated as to end in the arrantest 
" Parturiunt Monies,''^ that ever could be con- 
ceived i — many a mountain of this kind has 
brought forth scarcely so much as a mouse, after 
such pangs and th7^&es,and alarming labours of 
parturition, as would have led one at least to 
expect some great Behemoth or Leviathan, and 
the noise, and parade, and fuss of which have 
often gone near to scare me out of my wits-, — 
still, I am for stopping no mouth? : — aggravated 
or not aggravated, if grievances are but sup- 
posed to exist, I would have the case heard : 
— when I was in the House of Commons, there 



THTNKS-LTO-MYSELF. 229 

was a certain set of niembers, who were for 
ever entertaining us with grievances ; and, as 
the name of one of them happened to be War- 
ble,'^ I used to call them my warblers, so sweet- 
ly did their notes accord with my feelings ; — 
but, while I say this in their praise, I must ex- 
plicitly declare, that there is nothing I hold in 
greater abomination than murmuring, and 
grumbling, and complaining, for mere mischief- 
sake : to excite unnecessary alarm, and unrea- 
sonable discontent ; — such people I hold in 
utter abhorrence ; but, as none such are to be 
found at present, I shall scarcely be under- 
stood, perhaps, unJess I more particularly de- 
scribe the exact character ; about seventy-three 
years ago, the character seems to have been 
well understood, and perhaps much earlier ; 
for what I am about to transcribe is from the 
eleventh edition of the work I refer to, the date 
of my particular copy being 1738. — 

" At first," says the author, " he (that is, the 
mischief-make?') sets up for a mighty patriot, 
and pretends a great concern for his country ; 
then he descants upon the great advantages 
of liberty, and runs through all the changes of 
property : in his way he has a fling at the Pre- 
rogative, and sets the subject above the Sove- 
reign ; these discoveries work upon the rabble, 
who constitute him guardian of their privileges ; 
they give themselves up to his conduct, and, 
for a pledge of their blind obedience, present 

* So full was this Gentleman's hands at one time of such 
sort of business, that it was said by some, (I apprehend only 
in jest,) that he actually kejyt a Clarke to collect and supply 
him with materials. 

20 



230 THINKS-1-TO-MYSELF. 

him with their eyes and understanding ; he is 
the only patriot in the nation; he alone stands 
in the gap, and opposes arbitrary designs and 
prerogative innovations ; the Atlas that sus- 
tains liberty and defends property against state 
encroachments. 

" Now, has this man more zeal for his coun- 
try, cr more religion, than his neighbour ? Not 
at all ; his concern is interest, and his religion 
mask and artifice ; his vanity at court exceed- 
ed his force, and his merit or fortune kept not 
pace with his ambition ; the wind blew in his 
teeth, and now he tacks about, and makes for 
a Republic : — now, these popular men, these 
men of applause, have two-thirds of a traitor ; 
and I take it for a general rule, that he is no 
good subject who runs away with the heart of 
the vulgar ; their intellectuals are too weak, or 
their passions too strong, to distinguish truth :" 
BO far the book of 1738 : I shall only say. Ca- 
veat Auditor, therefore, — ^let him that hath ears 
to hear continual complaints from the same 
mouth, and nothing but complaints from yearns 
tnd to yearns end, beware ; for, Thinks-I-to- 
myself, "He that seeks perfection on earth, 
leaves nothing new for the Saints to find in 
heaven ; for, whilst men teach, there will be 
mistakes in Divinity, and, as long as no other 
govern, errors in the State ; therefore, be not 
over-lickorish after change, lest you muddy 
your present felicity with a future greater and 
more sharp inconvenience." 

With one eye upon these hazards, and the 
other upon the imperfections incident to aU 
human undertakings, I ever most conscientious- 



THINKS-I-TO-MYSELF. 231 

ly apply my best efforts and influence to recti- 
fy and meliorate whatever appears to me really 
capable of rectification and melioration, with- 
out exa.ting or fomenting a greater spirit of 
discontent and uneasiness than the real state 
of the case, after all fair allowances, shall seem 
to warrant. Clodpole as I am, I am not so 
blind or stupid as never to see any thing tnat 
wants mending or putting to rights in the 
great vessel of the state ; but, knowing the 
extreme delicacy and beauty of the machinery 
on which all its movements and all its advan- 
tages depend. Thinks- I-to-my self, Heaven for- 
bid that any very rough or inexpert hands 
should ever be intrusted with its repair or 
renovation ! 



" Thee, — native nook of earth ! — though squeezed 
By public exigence till annual food 
Fails for the craving hunger of the State, — 
Thee I account still happy, and the chief 
Among the nations, seeuig thou art free ; 
And, being free, I love thee ; for the sake 
Of that one feature can be well content, 
Disturb'd as thou hast been, poor as thou art. 
To seek no sublunary rest beside." 



And now I have fairly brought my narrative 
to an end ; [Thinks-I-to-myselJ\ how glad will 
you all be to hear it!) if, however, any body 
should wish to know more about me, as, for in- 
stance, the very year when I succeeded to the 
title, how many children I have, how old I am 
now, in what street I live, &c. &c., let them 
look to the list of Scott; h peers in the red book 
under K, or int«^ any of the Peerages under 



232 TH I NKS 1 TO-M YSELF. 

title KiLGARNocK, and of course they will find 
all these particulars at full length ; and if they 
should have heads clear enough to make out 
what relation I am to the first Earl of Tay-and- 
Thimble, I will freely acknowledge them to be 
much cleverer than I ever pretend to be. 

What, for instance, will they make of the 
following stiing of parentheses which occur in 
the very middle of my grand pedigree ? (which 
John, son of the said James, by his third wife 
Bridgetina, daughter and co-heiress of Archi- 
bald Frazer, cousin-german to Simon, fourth 
Earl of Tay-and-Tumhle, in virtue of his de- 
scent in a right line from Margaret, grand- 
daughter of O^Brien, the second Earl,) which 
Margaret, (who died in child-bed of her thir- 
teenth child,) was wife to Sir David Carnegie, 
of Carnegie, in the County of Clackmaman, 
Knight, second son of Montgomery Carnegie, 
of Kincardin, by Dorothea Eliza, daughter of 
John Gordon, Earl of Tullihumkin, and niece 
to the first Lord Baldonemore, some time grand 
huntsman to king Malcolm II.) (from whom are 
descended the Baldonemores of Craigraddock 
in Kincardistine,) by whom she hsid Jive daugh- 
ters and seven sons, videlicet, Clotilda, (married 
to the Lord de jYithcsdale,) who died, leaving 
issue Charles, (married to Eleanora, grand- 
daughter to Robert, fifth Earl of Belgarvy,) 
Robert and Alice, — Mary, — Isabella, — Jemima, 
(who all died young,) Anne, married, first, Sir 
David Bruce, of Fingask, secondly, Constan- 
tine Lord Viscount Lochmahen, by whom she 
had three sons and as many daughters ; and 
thirdly, a common soldier, named Duncan IVJac- 



THINKS. I-TO-MYSELF. 233 

leod,) Alexander, (fust Lord of Strathbogy,) 
Charles, — ^William, — Patrick, — Adam,— James, 
— Thomas, — David, — and Cosmo, — from which 
Cosmo, (who married Jemima, fourth da.ughter 
of John, son of Robert, Earl of Tay-and-Tum- 
ble, — nephew of Nicodemus Baron Kilgarnock,) 
the present noble family of Kilgarnock, (who 
intermarrying, &c. &c. &c. &.c.) that is, some 
how or other got among the Dermonts, and sc 
finally settled in me, the Clodpole, now head of 
all this illustrious house ; — who, I hope, ah 
sleep quietly in their graves, for, if any of 
them were to arise, I am sure I should not 
know one of them. 

In short, I suppose the Heralds know who I 
am, and how I came to be what I am, and 
therefore I am satisfied ; otherwise, if my 
honours all depended on my own understand- 
ing of my own descent from my great ancestor, 
the first Earl of Tay-and-Tumble, I will freely 
acknowledge I should give up my peerage at 
once ; for, upon the most diligent search I can 
make into matters, it still appears to me, that 
all my dignities depend, first, on my father's 
great aunt having neither father nor mother, 
and, secondly, on my great gr ea^t grandmother^ s 
being brother to the sister of one of the old 
Lord Tay-and-Tumble's uncle's cousins: — 
there may possibly be some misprints and per- 
plexities in the peerages I have examined, as 1 
find many of the like kind in those of other fami- 
lies, and therefore who knows but that other 
Peers have been about as much puzzled as my- 
self? I confess, how my father's great aunt 
could have no father or mother, seems to me, 
21 



234 THJNKS-I-TO-MYSELF 

as nearly as can be, inexplicable ; yet so the 
matter stands according to the books ; and I 
therefore feel bound in honour to mention it, 
for fear any of my readers should think I an^ 
deceiving them. 

On looking back, I see there is one impor- 
tant matter I have accidentally forgotten to 
mention, viz. that in a little time after my 
grand hymeneals, and Miss Twist's stolen wed- 
ding with young Muster Dash, poor Mrs. Fid- 
get died of a cancer on her tongue ! 

And now. Thinks- I-to-my self, I have quite, 
entirely done. 

Gentle reader ! as you and I may never 
meet again, 

PARE THEE WELL. 



